Golden Captive
by Anti Apocolypse
Summary: Crocie's a slave and Doflamingo's his buyer. AU! Young! DoflaCroc Doflamingo/Crocodile
1. Chapter 1

**Golden Captive**

 **Anti Apocolypse**

 **Chapter One**

He had lived there his whole life. His whole miserable, wretched, disgusting, no good, disappointing, terrible, despicable, fucking life. Since he was a child, since he was going into his teens and and now going into adult life. No one would buy him.

Perhaps it was because he was too small as a child, too weak for any service or work, too fragile for beatings when something was not accomplished, too innocent for his owners, his eyes too sharp. He would not be bought.

Perhaps it was because he had lost his hand as a teenager and now had to wear a cheap prosthetic covered by a black glove, he was too weak for labor, too useless to carry anything, too small for the work required, too dirty to look representable, too proud to bend at the will of others, his eyes too sharp. He would still not be bought.

Perhaps it was because he was now growing to be too old as he slowly became an adult, too tall for most tasks, too feisty to get anything done, too proud to bend to the will of another, too aware of his surroundings to be mindless, too smart and able to think for himself, too weak to carry a simple object, too stiff to do anything right, too noble to be looked down upon, his eyes too sharp. No one would buy this rotting crocodile.

Until that man came.

He came in like he was royalty, and he slowly became a colorful headache for the rotting slave. His coat was pink, fluffed with feathers of what seemed to be flamingos, shades covered his eyes, and his blonde hair was spiky, his dress shirt seemed expensive, and he walked without a care in the world. When he came through; people gasped, people awed, people became stupid (as the rotting slave thought). He was just one man that was too colorful for his own good.

He sat a few rows back and crossed his long legs as the rest of his crew, three oth- wait, no there's four other people sitting down next to the storm of abnormality.

The head of the auction house walked out and bowed, a smile on his stupid face simply saying "I'm here to sell you people, nothing extreme, it's not like they're real people anyway" and the rotting slave simply wanted to crack his face in two, see if he'd smile then.

The head man introduced the program quickly before introducing the slaves, his voice boomed and almost seemed to resonate through the walls of the shitty auction house. The older ones usually went first while the newer ones were the "grand finale", so buyers wouldn't loose interest when sparkling newbies went first and grimy oldies went last.

First was a man who had been in the auction business for almost thirty years. The rotting slave recalls that this would be his last chance at getting bought off before he was to be executed. The rotting slave knew that his execution would raise it's ugly head soon for him; maybe his next chance at auction, he hoped so.

The biding went on for a few moments before he was whisked away, screaming and crying as he fought against his chains and binds and begged for redemption. He was silenced later backstage and the rotting slave could practically smell the blood as the old man was killed behind the curtains. The rest of the slaves seemed to have smelled it too as they began to become restless, some even crying and contemplating their life, begging for their wife and kids to be at their side one last time. _They probably don't realize that it was_ _their wife and kids that sold them off._ The rotting slave thought.

The second to go was a young girl who, believe it or not, had been in the auction house when her mother was still carrying her. She was a beautiful girl; fair skin, lovely eyes as blue as the sea, rich blonde hair, she truly was a beauty.

She was sold fairly quickly for 15.000 Belli. _She's going to be raped._ The rotting slave noted when her buyer was a male.

The third to go up was the rotting slave himself. He was pushed on the stage, earning a low growl from the slave and a kick from the head man in stage. He was forced upright with a small crack in his lower back. The buyers in the rows in front of him shook their heads at his rebellious behavior and whispered when they noticed how the handcuff on his left hand was placed higher than normal and how he only wore one black glove and how his fingers on his right hand tapped against his leg while the hand covered by the glove remained motionless, not moving at all.

The head man allowed the biding that never would be to continue for a few moments, quicker than the man that had gone first, as he knew this rebellious, dirty, miserable slave would never be bought and he would die at the auction house, a cold blade slowly stabbing through his chest. Not quick like the older man before him but slow as this kid was a trouble maker and there was no doubt as to why no one wanted to buy him. And it wasn't just because of his missing hand.

The moments went by like hours before the rotting slave was kicked off stage, earning a kick back from the slave, visible in front of everyone as he was kicked out of view. The last thing he saw before he was kicked off stage was that damn pink feathered coat. _What_ _an eyesore._

The rest of the auction went by smoothly. Five out of the seven auctioned were bought and the two remaining wept and lamented to no end. It was annoying to be frank. The rotting slave was kicked and beaten again later that day, mere moments after the rich people that were once sitting in rows had left. The people who worked at the auction house never liked him. He always coughed up an attitude and whenever he got the chance he would make a sarcastic and bitter insult at the workers. He was despised and bloody, sarcastic and broken, forever a slave.

The rotting slave's beating had ended - more like was cut short - when the door opened. The head man rushed out to tell whoever it was to go away, but he shut his mouth when he greeted him instead. The rotting slave was confused; no one was allowed in the auction house after auctioning hours. The workers were too busy beating the slaves up. And now those rules were to be broken by some mere man? The rotting slave looked from behind the curtain, sneaking a glance as golden eyes examined the empty room.

The head man was smiling nervously and was clearly freaking out. This person probably wasn't even important and yet the head man was throwing a fit. It didn't make much sense to the rotting slave. His golden eyes looked over at the after-hours customer. It was that man with the pink feathered coat and the shades. His underlings weren't with him though and they seemed to be quite the accessory. The rotting slave lingered behind the curtain a few moments more than he should have. The blonde had noticed the golden eyes and mess of black hair behind the curtains and smirked at the rotting slave. His eyes widened and he realized he had been caught and he quickly ducked behind the curtain.

The conversation between the head man and the blonde carried on meaninglessly until the words slipped from the blonde.

"I wish to buy one of the slaves." He said simply with a slight shrug of the shoulders, his feathers moved softly along with the motion.

The rotting slave could see the head man rub his hands together greedily. "Well then, which one would you like, young master?"

"The boy with the golden eyes."

The rotting slave looked up from his dirty lap and took another peek from behind the curtain, eyes wide as he stared at the man. He wasn't serious, was he?

Even the head man looked at the man with surprise. "Are you sure? He is quite the trouble maker. If I didn't know that damned kid for all those years I would've been so much happier." He replied with mock concern. The rotting slave rolled his eyes and huffed, although the last comment had stung a little bit. The head man just wanted to kill him, he wasn't concerned for this strange man, he was just doing his job.

The man looked at the boy hiding behind the curtains as he caught him once again. He took the moment to pretend to be thinking but he was really looking at the bruise forming under the boy's cheek, the blood that rained down from his brow and dripped from his chin, the reddish marks hidden under the handcuff of his right wrist, the bags under his eyes, the purple and black marks that merged with his whitening knuckles, the reddish marks on his neck, and his golden eyes filled with confusion, hurt, excitement, and fear.

"How much for the boy?" The man replied, his gaze shifting back to the annoying man in front of him.

The head man's rosy lips, wet with sweat, confirmed the price for the rotting slave and the man had dumped down a considerable amount of Belli on the stage in front of the head man. Even the rotting slave had to blink a few times just to make sure that Belli was there and existing. The man must've noticed as he smirked once more at the boy as he marveled at how much cash just stood there on that stage.

"Deal?" The head man nodded furiously, kneeling down to collect the Belli in full, taking care of each piece of paper right down to each coin. He eventually called for the rotting slave, too busy to scream at the top of his lungs as he practically worshipped the stage with the pile of Belli on top of it.

The rotting slave took a cautious step out from his hiding spot behind the rich curtains, one leg first and then the other and then his hand came to part from the curtain and the dirty boy stood on the stage before the man who had just bought him. The man smirked for the countless time that evening, almost beckoning the boy to take a step closer.

"Boy, this is your owner, treat him with respect and for once just do as you're told, dammit." The head man barked at the boy as he scampered off the stage and into the area where the many rows were placed, before he stood at the beginning of the aisle between the head man and his new owner. He bowed his head quickly, not really interested in any formalities just that moment.

"It's always a pleasure doing business with you sir!" The head man cried out desperately, picking up as much of the Belli as he could, some stray coins falling and rolling about the stage before pathetically tossing the key to the rotting slave's chains.

The man simply waved a hand, catching the key that was tossed at him before walking out of the auction house, the young slave close behind him.

"What's your name, boy?" The man asked suddenly.

"Crocodile." He replied simply and quietly, blinking as he stared out at the landscape he had long forgotten, soaking the sun's rays in and inhaling deeply. Beats the cramped space of the auction house that's for sure.

"Doflamingo." The man said, clearly stating his own name with a grin.

Crocodile nodded. He really didn't care what Doflamingo's name was, he just wanted to get far away from the auction house. And he would.

"Well then, let's head back to Dressrosa."

•••••••••••••••••••

 **Author's Note**

Okay, I know that this is a short chapter and I'm sorry. I just don't wanna spill all of the beans for what I have planned for this story. But, please review! I do wanna know what you guys think! It would mean a lot to me!


	2. Chapter 2

**Golden Captive**

 **Anti Apocolypse**

 **Chapter Two**

No matter how many times he went over it in his head, he knew he wasn't being treated like a slave but like some distant part of their fucked up family. And he hated it.  
Crocodile's real family was gone, dead if he was lucky. He needed no one and he had followed those rules faithfully, ever since he was caught and sold to the auction house. That damned auction house. If Crocodile's plan followed through and he escaped from Doflamingo; he would burn that auction house to the ground and stomp on its very ashes. He would leave no trace of it behind, not a one.

But despite Crocodile's better judgement, he could not find it in himself to shun out Doflamingo and his lackeys entirely. Being in that auction house with no one but himself for the many years he spent grew long and boring and lonely. To have actual contact, to actually speak out of free will, act out of free will, do whatever the fuck he wanted; that was all Crocodile found himself wishing for every Christmas, every Birthday, every Easter, and all day followed with the entire night.

And now, he had it...

Sort of.

Doflamingo, once they had gotten on his ridiculous ship, told his newly-found "companion" that before anything else dared to happen to Crocodile, he would wash himself. The young boy couldn't help himself and looked up at the tall man confused. No slave had ever been given the luxury of a bath, unless their owner was very generous or just downright cruel when you find out that the water is murky and would only make yourself even more dirty than when you were originally.  
But Doflamingo simply gave him one of his famous smirks and pointed at a door that was positioned near the edge of the wooden wall but not close enough so it wouldn't work properly. Crocodile looked at the door, almost hoping it would burn up if he stared at it long enough. But Doflamingo pushed him toward the door and Crocodile had no choice but to do as his owner asked. The boy took cautious steps before opening the door and having it reveal whatever it was behind it. Crocodile prepared himself for the murky water but all he was treated with was a standard wash-room. Regular size, regular design, regular water, regular everything. No trick behind the door.

 _This isn't true. I refuse to believe this_. Crocodile thought silently to himself as he began to set the water in the tub and he undressed while it filled. Everything that had happened to him that day seemed like a really bad fairytale, minus the auction part. That was very much normal. But the fact that this man with the feather coat had chosen to buy him; some cocky, sarcastic, disobedient brat seemed out of this world. There were two other slaves and possibly more if he had waited a few hours. _They would be better choices then me... That's for sure._ Crocodile thought again, taking off his glove and the cheap prosthetic underneath it, sinking down below the water's surface, keeping his wounded wrist above the water.

Despite the event of Crocodile losing his hand happening years ago, the wound always stung when placed under water. Perhaps it's because he was being drowned when it happened. Or was Crocodile busy drowning one of his attackers. How many were there anyways? Two, three? Probably not four. Crocodile shook his head as he scrubbed the dirt off of his face, it had been there for so long that it just refused to get off. It didn't matter though. All it was was dirt. No harm there.

It took Crocodile a long time just scrubbing and scrubbing and scrubbing and scrubbing and scrubbing until his hands turned white. The dirt was very persistent, that was his only excuse. But there was still one blob of dirt that refused to let go of his skin. Crocodile got out of the water, dried off and got dressed, wiggled on both his prosthetic and glove and poked at the dirt on his lower cheek. Stupid little thing.

Crocodile walked, almost tiptoeing, towards the door, opened it, walked out and closed it again. He looked around and figured that walking on deck was a harmless act so he did so. Still tiptoeing, the young boy walked over to the railing on the edge of the ship and looked down at the dark water. He never really liked water, then again he never really experienced it either. Growing up in a desert was hard when water was something required to live yet scarce in your home. Maybe that was why his stub of a hand didn't like water, because his brain didn't either.

"Boy." Crocodile nearly jumped before turning around to see Doflamingo, shades on and jacket on, the colorful headache in all his glory. The tall man walked over to the railing himself, setting his elbows on the material. Crocodile just turned around again and looked out at the harbor. "You act like you haven't seen the sea in years." The tall man said suddenly.

Crocodile shrugged. Perhaps it was because he hasn't seen the outside world in years. Not since he was whisked away by strangers, with shackles restricting his every move until his death (which was a very good plan mind you) only for this jackass to saunter over and buy him. "I haven't." Crocodile simply muttered. No use explaining it to him. He wouldn't care anyways.

Doflamingo simply hummed in response. Crocodile simply sighed. It was chilly as the late afternoon slowly turned to night and the pinkness of the bright sky dimmed and the black abyss of night took over. Crocodile found himself quietly rubbing his arm with his only hand, the warmth quickly evaporating from his damp clothes. Doflamingo seemed not to notice and Crocodile took comfort in that fact as he slowly began to pull and tug at the single black glove covering his cheap prosthetic. Sometimes, Crocodile just wanted to rip off that blasted glove, unbuckle his prosthetic and hurl it into the ocean, taking joy in the image of some monster mistaking the blasted thing for food, swallowing it, and die from chocking on it. You may call it cruel, but he prefers imaginative.

"What is this place called, _sir_?" Crocodile asked through gritted teeth; partially from the cold but mostly out of hate of calling someone sir. Crocodile loathed it.

"Saboady Archipelago." Doflamingo simply replied, a small smirk tugging at his tanned skin. This man was _amused_ at Crocodile's way of asking his question. Crocodile was amused at the image of a dead Doflamingo with a knife in his chest and a gun in his mouth, already fired through his head, on a table.

Crocodile simply nodded his head in acknowledgement as the rest of their time was spent in silence, minus the sound of the soft white hands of the water below caressing the legs of the dock and the structure of the ship and coaxing it into falling and joing the vast, vast sea. The silence was interrupted when a hard voice ran through the air, "Young Master! Dinner is ready!" It said before going back from whatever hole it came from.

Doflamingo huffed and turned around, his face clearing saying that he was angry for no reason at all, walking away from the railing with his hands jammed in his pockets. He paused briefly to turn his head towards Crocodile who was still observing the water and the harbor. "Get over here, boy." He commanded and Crocodile hesitated, going back and forth inside his mind of what the consequences were for disobedience, but eventually the young boy turned away from the railing himself and quickly walked towards the man with shades.

They walked quickly, Crocodile quickening his pace in order to match Doflamingo's long stride. Doflamingo kneeled down briefly before standing back up with the handle to the hatch in his hand and the hatch open, beckoning Crocodile to walk down and never come back up again. The tall man gestured for the smaller to go first, which he did. Crocodile stepped down into the first step of the very short and not necessary staircase and into the long and haunting hallway. It was very foreboding in Crocodile's opinion, dark and long with only a few candles to light the way.

The sound of the hatch slamming shut so suddenly made Crocodile jump and look behind him immediately, only to see Dodlamingo walking down the staircase with a huge smirk on his face. "Gee, no need to be so jumpy, Croco." The taller teased and brushed past the stunned Crocodile to take the lead. The younger scoffed and walked quickly to be at the side of his new owner, not wanting to be left alone in such an unfamiliar environment. Doflamingo paused in front of a door that had people screaming and shouting behind it. Crocodile could faintly recgonize the voice that had informed them that dinners was ready in the mass of different voices. Doflamingo placed his hand on the door handle and slowly opened the door with a loud creaking sound. At that moment, when all the voices had died down and the many gazes from the pairs of eyes from so people were directed at them, Crocodile slowly nudged himself closer to Doflamingo; earning him the feeling of feathers brushing against the back of his bare neck.

Crocodile was a mass of emotions at that moment. Scared stiff at all the people now staring at him and pissed off at himself for actually relying on _Doflamingo_ for mental support. The feathers from Doflamingo's coat were reassuring though, soft and fluffy; he just wanted to curl up in the coat.

The silence was broken when Doflamingo looked at each individual person in the dinning room, the food thrown everywhere and the people looking as guilty as they were. "I see you've started without me." He muttered with a slight smirk on his face as he walked around the long table, Crocodile following quickly, towards the very head where one seat was left open for the head of this fucked up family.

Everyone in the room, almost immediately after Doflamingo sat down in his chair, started their earlier activities; screaming at the top of their lungs, drinking and eating to their heart's content and not having a single care in the world. Crocodile envied them somewhat; how they were free to do whatever, it could make a slave jealous.

Crocodile managed to untangle himself from the fluffy mass of feathers that was known as Doflamingo's coat and sit down at the very edge of the long bench seat. A small girl in a maid's outfit showed up and gave him a plate filled with many foods; meat mostly.

Crocodile wasted no time in ravaging the plate set before him. He had never eaten so much in one sitting before. At the auction house he was given bread and sometimes a live chicken, you had to drink your own saliva for a drink. Crocodile was pleased with this sudden change in his life, even if it was because he was bought by some strange man that seemed to have showed up out of nowhere, Crocodile did not complain.

He ate to his heart's content, although he didn't speak much he did enjoy - although he would probably deny it in the morning - listening to the family's stories of travels and seeing the world and fighting battles and having freedom. Doflamingo seemed to notice every single move Crocodile made, every muscle that dared to twitch and every blink the boy preformed, every itty bitty detail. Even down to the missing hand he kept hidden under the table and the manners he had when eating, even when surrounded by rude and loud buffoons. Every single fact that there was to know about the boy was found during dinner and every single fact that did not show, would soon be revealed under Doflamingo's watchful eyes.

 **Author's Note**

Thank you all so much for all of the support I have received! I'm really glad to know that people actually like this little idea.

Anyways, regarding this chapter, I know it is a bit awkward but I just wanted to set the base setting for how Crocie's and Doflamingo's interactions are: awkward! But anyways, thank you very much again and please let me know if there are any questions or suggestions for how this story should carry on!


	3. Chapter 3

**Golden Captive**

 **Anti Apocolypse**

 **Chapter Three**

Once Crocodile had opened his eyes and held back his yawn, he realized that he had fallen asleep on the dinning table. The boy was cold and Crocodile soon noticed that some idiot had left the door open and the cool breeze from the outside world was shifting through the room and making Crocodile colder by the minute, although his back felt almost nothing because of the pink feathered coat that was placed around his shoulders.

The young boy brought his arms high above his head as he stretched before allowing them to crash down back onto the table. He brought the hand with the wooden prosthetic up to knock on his head as it was still drunk on sleep. Crocodile made the knocking motion but nothing came. No wooden prosthetic.

Crocodile brought his arm down only to see that his black glove bade been taken off and his wooden prosthetic unbuckled and missing, leaving nothing but the wounded flesh strangely covered by bandages. Those bandages were not there before.

"Someone's been messing around." Crocodile sighed, already having a clear idea of who it was mainly because he was the only one on this ship that he did know. Unless, of course, one of those damn kids decided to mess around with him while he slept.

Crocodile's suspicions were confirmed when he saw the black glove sprawled out on the table neatly in front of him, a little piece of paper on top it. Crocodile took the paper and read out loud, "'Come and get it. Doflamingo.' Goddamnit!" Crocodile crumpled up the note and tossed it at the wall in front of him.

He needed that prosthetic. It helped fool not only the buyers at the auction house - the really stupid and non-observant ones - but it helped to fool the boy himself and even his body. Of course it didn't fool his body for long as the veins and nerves that once led to his hand were cut off, literally. So the body did what it usually did; be a complete dick. The pains were painful, painful enough to make him cry and want to scream. Crocodile needed to find that crap prosthetic. It didn't prevent but, boy, did it prolong.

So, the young boy collected his glove and stood up, letting the feathered coat that had been covering his back fall off and onto the floor. Crocodile was very tempted to leave it there, maybe throw it in a fire or into the sea. He preferred fire; it was more permanent.

But, against his better judgement, he bent down to collect the coat and once again wrap it around his shoulders, clutching it tight from the inside. Crocodile walked by the long table with the long bench and caught his reflection in one of the leftover plates. His face was bandaged; band-AIDS were over small wounds, a patch was over his left cheek and bandages circled around his neck. Someone really was messing with him while he slept because those were certainly not there before the auction house. Crocodile looked at his wrists, bandages there too.

Crocodile shook his head in disbelief. Doflamingo was probably luring him into a false sense of being safe. He refused to believe this; it was too good to be true. Crocodile decided that he would give Doflamingo a piece of his mind. He walked out the room and down the long hallway, up the stairs, and through the hatch. The young boy was on the surface of the ship again.

Crocodile bent down again, to drop the hatch into its rightful place, Doflamingo's coat touching the floor. That stupid coat was simply too big for him, it dragged around almost everywhere. It seemed impossible for a man to be so damn tall. Crocodile barely came up to the man's chest in height.

Crocodile walked over to the railing; it had become his favorite spot since he got on that ridiculous ship. He noted that there was no land in sight, only water. Crocodile wondered how many days it had to rain just to make this sea. It kind of unnerved him.

"Boy, you're up rather late." Crocodile looked around to see Doflamingo himself, in all his unfortunate glory.

Crocodile shrugged the coat off himself and held it out to the other. "I want my prosthetic back." He said simply, hiding the wounded wrist behind his back casually.

Doflamingo took his coat back with a malicious grin. He took something out of the pocket of his pants. "Do you mean this?" He grinned madly as he held it up a bit too high for Crocodile to snatch it away.

But that didn't stop him from trying.

He reached for the wooden hand with his own of flesh and blood, trying to snatch it out of his owner's hand. Doflamingo, however, saw it coming and did... he did _something_. Crocodile's hand immediately stopped and simply hung in the air, he commanded his body to move but it wouldn't. Doflamingo kept on smiling, waving the prosthetic in the air mockingly.

"How rude." He mocked, brushing the piece of wood teasingly against Crocodile's frozen fingertips. Crocodile grimaced, not at Doflamimgo's behavior but the tingling he felt behind his back from his wounded wrist. The pain would start soon; he was sure of it.

"If you really want this," the other man held his prosthetic up again. "then come to my room tonight. If you do everything I ask of you, I'll give you back your prosthetic." Doflamingo explained, his voice unusually slow. Talking as though he was explaining the concept of physics and gravity to a fetus that just got aborted.

Crocodile stayed silent, but the desperate look in his golden eyes told Doflamingo that they had a deal. The taller grinned and began to walk away, once he was a certain distance away; the binds that stopped Crocodile from attempting to snatch back his prosthetic disappeared and the young boy fell down from the unexpected detachment.

Crocodile tried to make himself useful, in order to kill time until he had to go see the pink feathered maniac. He mostly helped with the laundry as the clothes weren't very heavy and he didn't need two hands to carry such light-weight objects. He also helped out with cooking - when making Doflamingo's meal be added extra ingredients and more amounts and any moldy food he could find- and setting out the food and plates for when it came to be dinner. Eventually, all that he could help with was done and he was thanked for his hard work. It made Crocodile feel weird when he was thanked.

The rest of the time Crocodile killed was usually spent up in the Crow's Nest of the ship, which was oddly abandoned. The tingling he had felt earlier turned into extreme pain. Crocodile clutched his wrist tightly until his knuckled turned white and he bit his lip so hard to keep him from screaming that it bled. He did whimper, as quietly as possible, and he did cry, as quietly as possible, and he did stay there for a very long time, as quietly as possible. Crocodile did hear the call that dinner was ready and he did hear the footsteps and the hatch closing and opening and the chatter about the boring day. Crocodile did not even attempt to get up. He was too spent from how tense his body had been when the pain came and slashed his pride to bits. Crocodile would not show himself tonight; he was sure that his cheeks and his eyes were red and puffy from crying and he was sure that his bandages were ruined and were soon going to come undone and he was sure that his lip was bleeding for he felt the slow dripping. He refused to show himself only to be mocked.

Someone did come out and call for him but after a while of failure, they went back down and muttered insults about how ungrateful he was. Crocodile didn't care what they called him, he had been called much worse back at the auction house, much worse.

Crocodile could hear the shouts and screams of joy as dinner carried on. Crocodile was hungry but his pride was still there and he would not show himself in his present state. Although, to be honest with one's self, he was enjoying his time on this blasted ship. Almost every other moment, minus the ones he had to spend with Doflamingo, was a joyful experience and it was nothing like what he had planned for his future. Crocodile found the crew strange, not only did they consider each other family but they were just so different. Different backgrounds, different powers, different personalities, different strengths, different weaknesses, different likes and dislikes, and yet they still considered the one sitting across from them family. Crocodile was not jealous of some non-existent family, he was not. But the feeling was nice.

Crocodile sat up from his pathetic position and turned his head over the small space of the Crow's Nest to look out at the ship below him. He turned his head over to where the hatch was when he heard it slam. Doflamingo walked out. Crocodile then remembered that he was supposed to met him tonight. The young boy recollected himself, wiped his eyes and his lip and began the descent down towards the deck.

Doflamingo seemed to have seen the boy and paused in his walk to wherever he was going to wait for him. He was not a patient man but he could manage when he was about to have fun.

Crocodile sighed in relief once his bare feet touched the wooden surface of the deck once more. The descent down was even more challenging with only one hand. The small boy looked at Doflamingo and walked over to him, only for the other to start walking as well. Crocodile stayed a good distance away, just in case something happened that was similar to when he tried to snatch back his wooden prosthetic. He did not trust this man in the slightest.

The walk was short, Doflamingo stopped in front of a door and opened it, gesturing for Crocodile to go in first. Crocodile cautiously walked in and watched Doflamingo shut the door and walk over to a small couch and sit down, crossing his long legs and extending his arms so they circled around the back of the couch. Crocodile simply stayed there, although not for long; the same thing Crocodile was so cautious about happened again except instead of making the young boy unable to move, it forced him to move. So there he went, walking over to Doflamingo against his will, and sitting down next to Doflamingo against his will. The walk controlled by the taller man made Crocodile's wounded wrist come out of hiding and Doflamingo could see the undoing of bandages and when Crocodile sat down, he could clearly see the marks the other's nails left and the blood from his lip and, when he looked up to face the smaller, he could see the bitemarks on his very lip and how his eyes were slightly pink from crying.

Doflamingo's thinking process when Crocodile pulled his wrist back into hiding and angrily said, "Well? What do you want?". The smaller of the two was very uncomfortable in the presence of the taller.

"How did you get into the auction house." Doflamingo made it sound more like a statement then an actual question. At least, that was how it sounded in the ears of Crocodile.

"My parents sold me." Crocodile huffed in annoyance.

"How old are you?" Doflamingo tried again, already amused by Crocodile's actions and responses.

"I'm twenty-two." Doflamingo almost bursted out laughing but he managed to hold it in. Doflamingo himself was almost twenty but was currently merely nineteen. Never before had he seen such a small man.

"How's you loose you-" Before Doflamingo could even finish his next question he was interrupted by Crocodile.

"None of your business." He quickly snapped.

Okay, touchy subject. "Where did you come from?" Doflamingo tried.", somewhat disappointed when Crocodile answered on time.

"Alabasta, it's a desert kingdom." Crocodile muttered.

"Quite a ways from here." Doflamingo noted.

Crocodile merely shrugged. "Is that all?" He asked, ready to get his wooden prosthetic back.

Doflamingo smirked. "Not yet, boy. You need to earn this piece of nothing back."

Crocodile stood up immediately, ready to kick the other in the shin or where it would _really_ hurt. "You said if I did everything you asked, I would get it back tonight." Crocodile spat through gritted teeth.

"But I told you not to ask any questions at the beginning."

"No, no you didn't!" Crocodile yelled at his owner.

"I didn't? Oh, I guess I forgot to mention it." Doflamingo smirked, this was getting to be fun.

"Bullshit!"

"Language~"

Crocodile was not going to give up here but he could hear murmurs and whispers from the other side of the door and it was getting late. Crocodile growled and walked over to the door, pissed off to no end. "I'm gonna get that prosthetic back. Even if I have to kill you in your sleep." He vowed before opening the door and slamming it.

 **Author's Note**

Thank you all for such wonderful reviews and comments! You have no idea how happy I am whenever I read your comments. Honestly, if it was not for your reviews, Chapter Two, let alone Chapter Three, would not even exist! So thank you again!

Also, just in case you guys are wondering, the pain Crocodile is going through is called Phantom Pain. Phantom Pain is usually caused when you lose a limb and you go through severe pain because your body is kind of in denial. I'm still researching it though. But that's what Crocodile is going through, just so you know!


	4. Chapter 4

**Golden Captive**

 **Anti Apocolypse**

 **Chapter** **Three**

This was fucking stupid. Why couldn't she just send someone else to that damn flamingo's room. For God's sakes; he's missing a hand! She was the one wearing the stupid maid outfit anyways, it was her line of work and not his.

"Croco-chan~" That goddamned voice had cried out in a pathetic attempt at sounding cute and helpless. "Could you take this," at this she held out a small tray of food "to the young master?"

"No." Crocodile had replied in the coldest voice he could muster.

"Oh come on, Croco! Please?" She tried again, batting her eyes and pouting. What a bitch.

"No, Baby 5. I don't care what you say, I'm not doing it." The young boy crossed his arms stubbornly.

Baby 5 huffed. "I'll find a new prosthetic for you! A much better one then that old scrap of wood."

"No!" Crocodile had had enough. "I am not doing it no matter what the hell you say so just buck up and take it to that damned flamingo!"

Baby 5 flinched at Crocodile's harsh words. He recalled that she never really liked getting yelled at or getting glared at. She was weak and fragile, it was a wonder how she managed to stay on this ship. Baby 5 was a young girl, younger than Crocodile for sure. But, as much as the other hated to admit, she was useful when the situation called. She was smart as well, it just took a while for the rusty gears in her head to turn.

Baby 5 smirked and held out the tray again. "If you don't do this then I will make sure that you never get that old prosthetic of yours back." The younger threatened.

Crocodile growled, snatched the food tray away from her and stormed off, leaving Baby 5 giggling on the deck. "What's so important about that old prosthetic anyway?" She giggled.

Stupid young girls in stupid frilly maids outfits. Crocodile huffed at Baby 5 and her childish attitude. Her and that retarded friend of hers, Buffalo. He hated their guts. He hated how childish they were, how stupid they were, how clueless they were, how innocent they were, how pure they were; they were everything Crocodile once was. The young boy wouldn't call it jealousy, no he would never admit to that, he preferred hatred. But when Crocodile went over it in his mind he realized that they were essentially the same thing. Damnit.

Balancing the small tray in his good hand, Crocodile knocked on Doflamingo's door with his stump of a hand, not really caring about the light tingles that rushed through his arm. But no one answered. Crocodile tried again. Still, no one answered. Crocodile switched the tray's location and balanced it between his forearm and biceps while his functional hand tried the door knob. There was no way he was going back to Baby 5 with his hand and wounded wrist full. The door was unlocked (Crocodile didn't think too much of it as he was on a ship with his trusted crew, there really wasn't a need for locks unless you were a slave who knew no one nor trusted no one) so Crocodile opened it and stepped inside, instantly transferring the tray once again as his arm almost fell asleep at the uncomfortable and sudden position it was placed in.

The room was empty, no sign of life detected under Crocodile's sharp, golden eyes. There was a small desk near the circular window that was filled with papers. There wasn't really any other spot for Crocodile to set the tray down so he moved a few of the papers so he had just enough space for the tray to be set down. A few of the papers fell of the desk so once the tray of food was set down and was in such a position in which it would not fall, Crocodile kneeled down to pick up the stray papers. He couldn't help skimming through the neat handwriting that was scratched into the paper. One was about the politics in Dressrosa, another was about the curfew between toys and humans? Crocodile shook his head at that one and simply placed it on the desk.

One paper, however, caught his mind in particular. It had a symbol on it that Crocodile could've sworn he had seen before. He set his growing pile of fallen papers onto the desk and crammed the paper with the symbol in his pocket. He finished cleaning up and got out of Doflamingo's room, shutting the door when he left and making his way to the kitchen where his next line of duties awaited. He would have to read that paper later, maybe during dinner. But he would then have to take a candle and some matches. Oh well, he'd manage somehow.

His duties in the kitchen mainly included cleaning dishes, assist with making tonight's dinner, set up the table, and take whatever food would not be missed. The last one wasn't mandatory nor was it on the actual list handed to him but Crocodile did it anyway. The dishes were covered in grease and muck from last night's dinner. It was disgusting in every way possible and it was time consuming too. Each dirty dish took at least five minutes and then there was Baby 5 who kept asking questions which took up even more time. Setting the table up for dinner wasn't too bad and making the dinner itself wasn't very hard either. It was the usual roasted meat with very few vegetables along with grog. All Crocodile had to do was roast the meat, except with Doflamingo's who got burned, season it evenly, except for Doflamingo's who got more pepper than salt, and then just assist the cooked vegetables, there was nothing Crocodile could do here so he just assorted them like he did with all the others. Crocodile also cleaned the tools he used before being excused from the kitchen. The young slave looked at the table with the dishes and the food placed on top of it and the table that was about to become dirty and filthy and then he looked out at the almost completely dark sky. He estimated that there would be at least fifteen minutes before everyone came down for dinner as the meat did have to cool a bit and the grog was still being set up by Baby 5, which would take most of the fifteen minutes if she spilled it all while trying to hold her nose at the stench.

This amount of time gave Crocodile the chance to climb up to the abandoned Crow's Nest, which had become a little less challenging, and read the strange paper he had encountered in Doflamingo's room. It was a very nice plan in Crocodile's head and he planned to do everything in his power to carry it out. Especially now that the first step was completed. He had climbed his way up to the Crow's Nest and was now situated quite comfortably. Crocodile tugged the piece of paper out of his pocket and began to read it.

 _Sir Donquixote Doflamingo,_

 _Today at the auction house we have sold a total of seven slaves out of the original ten._

 _Sharon was sold for 15.000 Belli to Mathew Panheel._

 _Joan Miller was sold for 3.000 Belli to Hora Jaye_

 _Crocodile was sold for 1.000.000 Belli to Donquixote Doflamingo_

 _Hamilton was sold for 10.000 Belli to Pan Kaner_

 _Queen was sold for 32.000 Belli to Yanno Maki_

 _Namo was sold for 2.500 Belli to Ashlynn Ken_

 _Yuna was sold for 5.950 Belli to Linda Mich_

 _Unfortunately, we have had one our slaves die as he has reached the expiration date._

 _It is a pleasure doing business with you as always, Saboady Archipelago Auction House_

Crocodile's owner was associated with the auction house of Saboady Archipelago, the very place Crocodile vowed to burn. Well, that just added one more reason to the list of why Crocodile had every right to dispise Doflamingo's very existence. Crocodile was very tempted to just tear the piece of paper up and leave it there for the wind to blow it away. But he was sure that Doflamingo would become suspicious when pieces of an important paper are left lying at the place where his fuming slave was found last. This was stupid. When Crocodile thought he had finally grasped freedom, even if he simply brushed against it, he was pulled back into reality and stuck in some sort of bird cage. He was no trapped bird. He was a free crocodile that would bite anyone's head off who thought so otherwise. Especially if they're a cocky and arrogant flamingo. Crocodile shoved the paper back into his pocket and began to climb back down to the deck.

Baby 5 was waiting for him below on the deck. "Croco-chan!" She had called. "Dinner is ready." She finished once Crocodile had his bare feet on the cold wooden deck.

Crocodile nodded, almost waiting for Baby 5 to say something else. He simply shrugged. "And?"

"Well aren't you going to come?" She said all matter-of-fact like.

Crocodile scoffed. "No, I'm not going to dinner." He replied.

Baby 5 looked at the older man with a look that told him she doubted that. "And why aren't you coming to dinner?"

Crocodile smirked. "I'm not hungry and besides, if you actually counted the plates you would've known that there is only enough for you guys, not the slave."

Baby 5 looked insulted, which was good, and huffed angrily, which was also good. Crocodile simply shrugged again before walking down and across the deck to sher Dodlamingo's room was. He barely heard Baby 5 yell after him, "Well, what are you going to eat?!"

"You're not my mother!" Crocodile simply shouted back. He took much pleasure in hearing Baby 5 stomp her foot angrily against the wooden floorboards on the deck.

The door to Dorlamingo's room was cracked open ever so slightly. It left a big enough crack for Crocodile to see the area where the desk was; which wasn't empty. Crocodile poked the door roughly so it opened just enough so most of the room could be seen, just in case someone else was also in the room for some unknown reason. Doflamingo was in the room but he seemed to be asleep with his glasses placed on the desk and the tray of food he had left earlier was empty. Doflamingo had a book over his eyes and his chest took in deep breaths, breathe that could only be taken when one is asleep. But, just in case Doflamingo was a light sleeper, Crocodile walked into the room as quietly as he possibly could towards the desk. The floorboards didn't make any unwanted sounds so it was pretty easy to get to the desk without making any noises. Crocodile paused at the very edge and reached into his pocket to take out the folded piece of paper. He unfolded it as best as he could and gently placed it on top of some other random papers, he could see a few that he had to pick up when delivering the tray of food to an empty room. Crocodile mentally sighed and turned around to make his way back outside the room, close the door and make a run for it.

"Oi, Croco, what do you think you're doing in here?" The voice of Doflamingo ran through Crocodile's ears unpleasantly. But then again, he really did hate the man.

"Just here to tell you that dinner's ready." Crocodile muttered. This was not happening. Hell. No. Crocodile had never prayed before, so hopefully he prayed to the right God and he would be able to fulfil his pray and kill Doflamingo with a flicker of lightning.

Doflamingo had sat up, taken the book away from his face (Crocodile could now see it was a book on Alabasta), and had placed his glasses on. Doflamingo reached out and ended up picking up the piece of paper Crocodile had kindly brought back to him. Crocodile figured Doflamingo must've seen the young boy place the paper on his desk through the slight gap between the pages and his face. But then again, the wrinkles did make it stand out from the rest of the smooth pile.

He simply hummed as he skimmed through the writing on the paper, not like there was a lot but the fancy writing did make it seem as though there was more information then there actually was. Crocodile really wanted some sort of gun or a knife even, just something that would've really done the job. All he had to do was toss it overboard from the Crow's Nest, simple as that.

"So," he leaned back and crossed his abnormally long legs, still holding on to the paper "you took this paper because?" He questioned, looking at Crocodile through his heavily tinted sunglasses.

"I saw the symbol on the front and I thought I had seen it before..." Crocodile trailed off a bit. He really did not know what to say that would get him out of trouble so he simply used the truth.

"Why take it?" Doflamingo's smirk grew as he watched the smaller fidget in front of him, a scowl painted across his face.

"I was curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat." Doflamingo got up from his chair and simply tossed the piece of paper down somewhere on his desk, mixed up in the sea of white papers. "I believe you said that dinner was ready?" His smirk still present as he stood before Crocodile, seeking to boast that he was that much taller despite being the younger of the two.

Crocodile simply nodded his head. Doflamingo brushed past his slave and walked towards the door, hand on the handle. Not hearing the door close told Crocodile that he was waiting for him. In such a situation, he had no choice but to answer his owner's wishes. It was stupid. He rather comply to the wish of shooting a bullet through Doflamingo's head. The result at least would've been better.

Crocodile turned around and walked through the door, not stopping for Doflamingo and carrying on past the hatch where dinner was to be held. Doflamingo didn't shout after him, didn't swear after him, not like Crocodile minded. Why would he?

Crocodile walked into the main room that led to everyone's quarters, executive or not. For some reason the carpenter that built this ship thought it necessary to put in a room with no meaning or purpose into the ship. Doflamingo probably didn't mind, he certainly had the cash. Then again, most people do when they auction off innocent people to evil people. Big bucks, people. Big bucks.

Crocodile walked to one of the tables in the room and pulled up a chair. He wasn't one to vent mentally but there wasn't anyone to beat up on this wretched ship. Baby 5 not encounter as she probably would just tell someone and Crocodile didn't even want to think about how he might be punished. So, he just vents mentally. He found himself tugging off the useless bandages he had received when he first got here. But that ended with his prosthetic stolen. Then, he got those stupid pains and got asked a lot of questions by Doflamingo. He didn't get his prosthetic back and then he discovers some paper that connects Doflamingo to the auction house in Saboady Archipelago. And now, Crocodile is fuming. Wonderful coarse of events we have here, simply wonderful.

Crocodile's train of thought was broken when he heard the door open and twisted his head around to see the pink feathered coat walk through the door. Doflamingo walked up and sat down in the chair opposite of Crocodile, once again leaning back and crossing his goddamned legs.

"What do you want." Crocodile didn't even bother making it sound like an actual question, he was in too sour of a mood.

"Checking in on you." Doflamingo simply replied, his smirk dropping for mere seconds when he saw the ripped bandages and the redness on Crocodile's skin from his mindless scratching. His wounded wrist jutted out from his arm awkwardly and it seemed as though the skin hadn't received any medical attention. It seemed infected and the skin was red and puffy. Then again, the auction house wasn't one for medical attention, especially not when it came to the slaves.

"Well you've checked in on me so get lost. Those fools you call a family are probably stealing off your plate right now." Crocodile replied sourly.

Doflamingo shrugged and his smirk gained its confidence. "Oh well, not like it hasn't been messed with already." So he knew what Crocodile was doing to his dinner. Goddamnit!

Crocodile huffed and looked away, absentmindedly flicking at his wounded wrist. "Get lost." He repeated, not caring what the consequences where for talking back at your owner.

Doflamingo still stayed exactly where he was and refused to move. "Do you trust me?" He asked suddenly.

What, was he still drunk on sleep? "No, of course not. Why on earth would I trust someone like you?" Crocodile snapped. He was crazy to think Crocodile trusted the man.

Doflamingo hummed, his smirk still getting bigger and probably his ego too. Was that the answer he was hoping for? That flamingo bastard.

"Just asking~" The other hummed in response. Crocodile so desperately wished for a gun, it was on his Christmas List at least ten times.

The two sat there in silence for a while, Crocodile wishing for weapons and a dead flamingo and Doflamingo just staring out at space. He was _great_ company. The silence continued until Doflamingo suddenly stood, Crocodile jumped slightly and even the chair seemed surprised as it seemed to skid backwards. Doflamingo walked around the table and stopped when he was standing before his small slave. He leaned down slightly, Crocodile leaned back slightly. Doflamingo's smirk just got bigger and bigger, Crocodile was almost wishing it would crack the other's face in two. Doflamingo suddenly got very close quickly and soon Crocodile found himself kissing this man. _Kissing._

Crocodile immediately raised up both arms and pressed his hand and wounded wrist against the man's shoulders, trying to push the bastard back but Dodlamingo insisted on doing what he was doing. Crocodile insisted that he back up a million miles. Doflamingo eventually backed, up and stood his full height and just left Crocodile there in his chair, questioning his life.

"Come to dinner with me." Doflamingo insisted. The stubborn bastard.

Crocodile glared at the taller man. "Only if you give me back my prosthetic." He offered, his sour mood somewhat lightened but it was still there.

"Only if you come to dinner with me." Doflamingo offered a hand.

Crocodile sighed and took the taller man's hand, liking the idea of fidgeting what happened mere seconds ago. "Fine."

And just like that, they walked out, Crocodile immediately snatching his hand back once he was up and on his feet.

 **Author's Note**

Okay, I'm so sorry with this chapter. I feel that this is the worst one I have written so far. So sorry!

And yes, they did just smooch, and yes, this chapter is the longest and if you hear slight squealing when reading this chapter, have no fear for it is simply me! u


	5. Chapter 5

**Golden Captive**

 **Anti Apocolypse**

 **Chapter Five**

When he woke up, his entire body was sore and he was an unfamiliar area with feathers poking at his bare back. His body was covered in marks and his stump was no longer visible. He got his prosthetic back.

The buckle was no longer tearing into his damaged skin but it simply say on top and the bottom of the prosthetic was no long rough and bumpy but smooth and almost soft. He was glad to have his prosthetic back, so very glad. But that didn't change the fact that he still wanted to throw it into the ocean and hope that it would bring her life back. The rotting slave still remembered her beautiful face and kind spirit, even though she was a slave waiting to be bought or killed. Her expiration date wasn't for months but that damned prosthetic brought it up to the next second. Crocodile still remembered her face; so pale with a splash of red as the three bullets entered her skull. She was so lovely.

Crocodile's eyes closed slowly. He was still tired and he had never slept in a bed before, it was kind of nice. The young slave looked around and noted that he was in Doflamingo's room. He vaguely remembered last night, but those memories were enough to inform him what had happened. Besides, the soreness in his lower back and all the marks that littered his body near his neck, shoulders and his wounded wrist were enough to give away what happened last night.

Crocodile pushed himself up and off the bed. He did succeed, but the result was a rather painful, one way ticket to the floor. He hissed at the sharp pain that tore it's way through his muscles and bones. What a wonderful wake-up call.

Crocodile painfully got himself off the floor and he sat himself at the edge of the bed. This was going to be a long day. Crocodile muttered inaudible curses as he lay back down on the inviting bed and curled himself up in the mass of pink feathers that was left behind when Doflamingo left the room. They tickled quite a bit but it was a small price to pay for the warmth they generously offered. Crocodile once again understood why Doflamingo constantly insisted on wearing this coat.

Crocodile closed his eyes again, his lids getting heavy as he drew in a deep breath and let out a content sigh. The feathers felt so nice against his aching body. The boy was being pulled into the gentle arms of sleep; so warm, so comforting, so loving. He was so close to the gates of that wonderful paradise. So _close_.

Crocodile's eyes snapped open when he heard the door open and close behind the person who opened it mere moments before. Crocodile almost instantly retaliated into the mass of pink feathers, hiding his entire body with the exception of his functional hand which could be seen clutching the coat from the outside. The footsteps got louder as the person got closer. Crocodile clutched the coat with all his might, his eyes shut tight. Before Crocodile could even take one more strangled breath in, the shield of pink feathers was ripped away from his hand and Crocodile opened his eyes suddenly, surprised at the sudden action. The boy's head looked up to see Doflamingo in all his glory.

"Honestly Croco. I leave for two minutes and I find you already making a home out of my coat. You little Hermit Crab." The taller teased.

Crocodile huffed, a faint blush rushing across his cheeks. "Y-you wish, flamingo bastard." The boy snatched the covers that were lazily tossed at the foot of the bed and quickly made an attempt to cover himself once again.

Doflamingo clearly saw through his pitiful actions and grabbed at his wrist, haulting the smaller from hiding. Doflamingo held up his pointer finger from his other hand and waved it slightly. "Tsk, tsk Croco. I can't have you hiding everywhere you go. Where's the fun in that?"

Crocodile growled at Doflamingo's words. He hated the man so very much. "Where are my clothes then?" He demanded. Doflamingo paused a bit, his grip on the smaller' wrist slackened and Crocodile took the chance to rip it away from the other's hand. "If you don't want me hiding everywhere I go then where are my clothes?" He tried again.

Doflamingo shrugged but smirked nonetheless. "So modest." He said simply before he walked off to some dresser near the corner of the room and tossed some clothes here and there, often murmuring that they were too big.

Crocodile took the chance to cover up with the blankets. He wasn't as modest as Doflamingo probably thought, the marks on his body just bothered him. They seemed so abnormal; the dark purples and blues against his pale skin.

Doflamingo eventually found a pair of clothes that would actually fit the smaller boy and tossed them at him, grinning when the clothes hit Crocodile square in the face before sliding into his lap. Crocodile picked up the first article of clothing, a white tank top. He blinked a few times, just to make sure that this was actually happening.

"A tank top." The slave stated.

Doflamingo shrugged once more. "I couldn't find anything that would fit you." He stated matter-of-factly.

 _Liar_. Crocodile thought. He heard the occasional snickers from the man when searching through all of the clothes.

Crocodile shrugged to himself and put on the tank top, then the rest of his clothes. The black shorts were a bit of a problem but Crocodile refused every offer of help Doflamingo gave. Crocodile stood up, still holding onto the edge of the bed for support; his back still hurt like hell. The marks left from the activities of last night could clearly be seen and Crocodile just wanted to take a knife and carve each mark out of his skin.

Crocodile glare at Doflamingo and soon started to make his way towards the door, as painful as it was. The young boy managed to get to the door before his body suddenly stopped. _Stupid flamingo bastard and his stupid powers_. Crocodile thought bitterly as Dodlamingo cocked his head to the side and smirked, licking his lips.

Crocodile knew what he wanted just from that simple action. But like hell would he give it to him. Crocodile sighed and walked back towards the other man who simply stared at his young slave but his smirk never faltering.

Crocodile stopped before the other and looked up at him, Doflamingo looked down in return. The smaller leaned up and stood on his very toes, clinging on to Doflamingo's coat for a bit more support. Doflamingo, in return, leaned down just the slightest bit so his lips met with the other's, his hand slowly sneaking its way down to Crocodile's waist.

Crocodile squeezed his eyes shut, still not used to this feeling of his lips against another person's. The slave felt something brush against his lower lip and he, with much thought and courage, opened his mouth just a tiny bit. Doflamingo's tongue barged into his mouth, forced Crocodile to take one step backwards from the sudden intrusion. The younger boy shut his eyes tight; the feeling of his lips against another pair was still so strange to him and the feeling of Doflamingo's tongue brushing against his teeth was very weird and the feeling of that goddamn tongue brushing against his own tongue is just strange.

 _Okay, it's now or never_... Yet the young boy hesitated.

 _Come on, it's nothing too hard_... He hesitated still.

 _Goddamnit Crocodile, you coward!_ Crocodile sucked in whatever breath he could and bit Doflamingo's tongue with all his might before letting go, he could taste the blood.

Doflamingo, more surprised than anything, released Crocodile and faltered backwards. Although Crocodile's attack didn't seem to anger the other, it came a good amount of time in which Crocodile could stick his tongue out at the other man and run for it, shutting the door behind him, his lower back happy to forget the pain and let him run away from the other man towards the Crow's Nest.

The Crow's Nest was fucking freezing. Perhaps it was the simple clothing he was given; a tank top and shorts, or perhaps it was because Crocodile was no angry at Doflamingo. He slammed his fist down on the wooden base of the Crow's Nest, his face buried deep within his bruised knees. He wasn't angry at anyone but himself, which happened often mind you.

Crocodile glanced down at the crooked prosthetic. He unbuckled it and slid the rough material off his wounded wrist, he didn't bother to place the black glove over it for everyone on this ship already knew of his...handicap. Wood fell against wood and skin burned slightly under the gentle gaze of the sun overhead. The skin seemed distorted, red, puffy and just flat out disgusting. And, what do you know, there were marks here too! Goddamn flamingo. Crocodile's inner vent was interrupted when someone came up and into the Crow's Nest.

"Baby 5." Crocodile muttered.

Baby 5 held a blanket in one hand, Crocodile noted, as she plopped herself down next to the slave. "Here. It's cold up here so I thought you'd want it." Baby 5 said all matter-of-fact like. Crocodile could tell she was doing her very best not to stare at the marks littering his collar bone and shoulders.

Crocodile nodded absentmindedly. Immediately, like two seconds later, Baby 5 had the blanket wrapped around both of them and Baby 5 was cuddled up into Crocodile's side, sapping the warmth outta him. Crocodile didn't really mind, he was too busy thinking to notice.

Baby 5's teeth were chattering and every muscle in her body was moving. "What's up with your prosthetic?" Baby 5 chocked out. Crocodile barely heard it over her shivering.

"A friend made it for me."

"Did a terrible job."

"She was the daughter of a Craftsman, picked up a few things here and there. She knew the structure of a hand very well because she wanted to be a doctor but the human traffickers took her away before she could leave home." Crocodile explained, his turn to be all matter-of-fact like.

"Why did she do it?"

"She was there when I lost my hand, all the slaves at the time were. She felt sorry for me and decided to make me my very own prosthetic." The boy shrugged.

"Is she still there? At the Auction House?"

"No."

Baby 5 didn't ask any further, seeing how blank Crocodile's eyes became told her enough. "Was she good?"

Crocodile nodded. "Very good."

Baby 5 shut up and made herself comfortable next to Crocodile. The boy even went so far as to move his arm so she could receive even more warmth. Eventually, with the warmth and comfort, Baby 5 and Crocodile fell asleep. Baby 5's head rested on Crocodile's shoulder and Crocodile's head rested on Baby 5's. It was a fair trade.

Crocodile was roughly woken by Baby 5 shaking him with no mercy. "Croco! We fell asleep!"

Crocodile scratched at an eye, trying to rub the sleep out of it. "I can see that." Crocodile yawned.

Baby 5 suddenly gasped. "What if we slept through dinner?!" She cried. "Oh no! Come on, Croco! If we did we can at least grab some left-overs before they're thrown away!" Baby 5 practically flew down to the hatch at the speed of light, leaving Crocodile with the responsibility of the blanket.

The young boy gathered said blanket and buckled his prosthetic back onto his wrist. Climbing down from the Crow's Nest was easier with the prosthetic anyways. So Crocodile began the descent down once he had everything in his possession.

Turns out, Dinner was still going on (much to Baby 5's utter relief) and Crocodile was dragged to the dinner table immediately after putting the blanket back where Baby 5 had found it. Crocodile sat down between Baby 5 and Gladius, who didn't seem to mind, and had to share a plate with the young girl next to Crocodile. It was the usual meat with very few vegetables; Baby 5 devoured the meat and Crocodile nibbled on vegetables. Once again, a fair trade.

Doflamingo was there, Crocodile noted, and he didn't seem angered about the whole tongue-biting incident, which was very good.

So Dinner carried on smoothly; a jolly time, some would say. Crocodile did have fun listening to Baby 5 and Buffalo argue over something stupid and how Gladius near exploded when he couldn't take any more, although he was right next to Crocodile so it didn't seem fun at the time. Crocodile chuckled at himself as he grabbed a blanket from the room that connected to most of the crew's quarters, minus Doflamingo and Crocodile (although he wasn't part of the crew). Crocodile climbed up to the Crow's Nest and wrapped up in the warm blanket and fell asleep.

 **Author's Note**

Yes, they did have sex when you weren't reading. Oh my. Anyways, that does it for this chapter! I hope you enjoyed as you learn why the fuck that stupid and old prosthetic is so important to Croco-boy! _Doflamingo is silently fuming that he was not the first in Crocodile's life. **/Slap'd**_


	6. Chapter 6

**Golden Captive**

 **Anti Apocolypse**

 **Chapter Six**

He had arrived at Dressrosa after many days of torture. He hated to admit that he did like the country, despite its King. Crocodile watched in amazement as both humans and toys collided together as couples, family and friends. It was very strange to see such happenings but Crocodile simply brushed the very thing off and away. It did not concern him, he did not care.

Inside the palace, Crocodile was placed in a room and was told to get comfortable before coming to the kitchen. What was up with this family? Hey give him food, clothes, beyond decent treatment and now a room to stay in. What the flying fuck was swimming through their brains tossing rainbows and peace signs wherever it went. _They_ _make no sense_. Crocodile thought to himself as he sat down on the bed. It was sturdy, not broken or cheap but untouched and reliable. It felt nice to be able to sleep on an actual bed then in a Crow's Nest, the one time in Doflamingo's room on the ship did not count. Crocodile just wanted to curl up into himself, rest his head upon the pillow and then pull the blankets over his body and never be known to the world again. Personally, Crocodile thought it was a very good plan but alas, he was needed in the kitchen.

Crocodile grunted slightly as he pushed himself up and fixed the bed back to what it originally looked like and walked out the door to the kitchen. Crocodile noticed a big sheet of paper on the wall a little ways off. Crocodile closed his do or and walked towards the sign. _Kitchen - Meeting Room -. What the hell is this?_ Crocodile thought to himself. It was idiotic, where these signs here before. Crocodile didn't remember seeing the signs on his way to his room. The slave shrugged it off and walked in the direction of the kitchen, in the mood to take chances.

The hallway was long and fancy, perfect for the abode of the King of the country. Crocodile walked until he came upon more signs. One sign said "Kitchen" and it was plastered on a very tall yet old looking door. Even Crocodile's nose confirmed that simple fact as he could smell onions and meat roasting. So he walked in, cautious at first, in case the sign lied, but the sign did not lie and this room was indeed the kitchen. A woman with green hair and a slender frame was casually dicing onions into tiny cubes until she set down the knife and acknowledged Crocodile's rather awkward existence.

"You," she paused to wipe her strange glasses "must be Crocodile." Once Crocodile nodded, she began again. "I'm Monet. I usually work in the kitchen."

Crocodile nodded, not in the mood to talk to a _woman_ with a _knife_ near her. The young slave had been known to upset the ladies.

Monet simply smiled and held her hand out towards a space where there was already a cutting board and a huge pound of roasted meat with a cutting knife. Crocodile walked to his space while Monet walked back to hers.

"I hear your quite spirited. The young master seems to have taken a liking to you." Monet said absentmindedly. Crocodile wasn't one for small talk but he wasn't one for kitchen murder either.

"Call it what you wish." Crocodile replied back without a care.

"Explains why you haven't jumped yet." Okay, this family was fucked up inside out, top to bottom.

Crocodile slammed the knife down so it sliced through the roasted meat and made a dent in the cutting board. Oops. Monet seemed to notice and gave a small chuckle as she placed her diced onions on an empty plate.

"Oh my." The woman began. "I do believe that we have run out of carrots."

"Carrots?" Crocodile questioned and looked back to see Monet scavenging through cupboards.

"Yes, we are trying to get Baby 5 to eat more vegetables." Monet explained.

"Oh?" Crocodile went back to cutting through the roasted meat although much more slowly; just I case Monet wanted to ask him to get carrots or something.

"Crocodile, would you mind going out and getting some carrots?" Monet asked, already writing something things down on a spare piece of paper. "I'd do it myself but then the food wouldn't get very far."

"Sure. It's just... I just got here and I don't know my way around this place." Crocodile muttered. He wasn't trying to get out of it or anything, he just spoke the truth.

Monet finished her scribbling and held out a small piece of paper with neat handwriting on it out toward Crocodile. "Directions." She smiled and handed him a few Belli. "And money for the carrots."

Crocodile took the paper and the money and shoved it in the pocket of the black shorts Doflamingo had so _kindly_ given to him several days ago. "Carrots are the vegetable that are orange and have green stuff near the end right?" He had no idea what a carrot was. Well, he did, he just wanted to clarify.

"Indeed." Monet said, adjusting her hypnotizing glasses with a smile. "Those are carrots."

Crocodile nodded and walked out the door, taking out the piece of paper with the directions on it and walked in the wrong direction for the door.

"He's going to get eaten alive."

Crocodile had finally found the exit and opened the door to see the outside world. It was hit with clear open streets that were filled to the brim with people and toys. The slip of paper said _Market Avenue_ and that was it. Although it was pretty self-explanatory. Dressrosa had every kind of street with the most obvious names; _Lover's_ _Lane_ being one of many.

The young boy managed to find a street marker that had _Market Avenue_ and walked down the crowded lanes. There were many street vendors, each selling a different product. There was a vendor for female appliances, fruits, fish, toy fixing, male appliances and vegetables. Crocodile walked up to the table with vegetables and requested a carrot which was plopped in his prosthetic and then the street vendor held out his hand for the Belli and Crocodile tugged it out from the depths of his pocket.

"Sorry kid but you're a few Belli off." The street vendor replied, handing back the money and keeping his hand out for the carrot Crocodile had in his hand. Crocodile looked at the tag below the boxes of carrots on the street vendor's table and looked at the Belli he had received from Monet. Crocodile muttered something and held up a finger for the street vendor to wait and stuffed the Belli back in his pocket and lingered a moment, pretending to be searching for more cash. Once a few seconds more than necessary before clutching his fist and holding it out before the street vendor, wrist up. But instead of money, Crocodile held up his middle finger and ran off once the carrot was in his functioning hand.

"STOP! Thief! Get back here, kid!" The street vendor screaming after him, chasing him after putting a small tablecloth over his vegetables and placing a _Closed_ sign on the edge of the table in front of the covered boxes of vegetables.

Crocodile ran as fast as he could while gripping onto the carrot in his hand as hard as he could. Hopefully the slave could outrun the street vendor by sticking to the alleys. Of course the risk escalated to even higher levels as the alleys were closed off and Crocodile had no idea where the fuck he was going. With a quick glance behind him, Crocodile could see the street vendor hot on his tail. _Well, fuck you old man!_ Crocodile thought quickly before deciding to stick to the open streets instead of the alleys. He ran even faster and forced his tired legs to carry him farther, as far as the palace where Monet was waiting for him with the carrot.

Crocodile noticed a couple walking with some space around them that separated them from from the rest of the crowd. He could pull the slip and get away if he could just reach that couple!

No, no of course that wouldn't happen. Because who in the right fucking mind would side with the poor slave? Hah! What a laugh.

Crocodile's movements were halted with a painful tug of his hair. "Caught you, you street rat!" The vendor said in triumph, grabbing another fistful of his hair when the other ones were being pulled out from Crocodile's head as he insisted on trying to get away from the man. "Honestly, you think I don't see a slave when I see one?! The vendor started, tugging on Crocodile's hair to get him to go in the direction the vendor wanted. "I'm glad people thought of that Celestial Hoof or else I might've actually taken pity on you!"

Oh, so he was one of _those_ people; the assholes who clearly don't care about other human beings who have been sold of to complete strangers. Yeah, this man could just take the express-way to Hell please and thank you.

Crocodile attempted to kick the vendor's legs, better yet his dick, but to no avail. Crocodile was trying to hard not to concentrate on the pain his head was experiencing. Dressrosa was a great place! Such friendly neighbors and caring people. Someone just kill me outta you're gonna die tonight! Amazing.

Once the street vendor finally arrived at Market Avenue and stopped before his street stand, Crocodile managed to hear a gasp through his venting. He was dropped into the ground and earned a kick from the street vendor. "You filthy rat! Because I wasted my time on you, all of my vegetables are gone! You planned this didn't you! You damn rat!" The street vendor vented his frustration of losing his precious vegetables by kicking and stomping the poor boy all over. His face was bleeding, his bones probably broken or at least dislocated and his body in so much pain. But no matter what happened, Crocodile refused to let go of the carrot, his nails dug deep into the dirty surface and they refused to climb back up and out of the carrot.

Once the street vendor had had enough he picked Crocodile up by his tank-top and flung him in a random direction, not looking not caring where he went or what happened to him. Crocodile rolled and rolled, each part of his broken and bloody body made contact with the cement of the street before making contact with something else.

The boy heard a laugh and that goddamn voice. He groaned. "Geez Croco, didn't know it took so long to run an errand."

Crocodile opened one eye and glanced up before swearing. "Damn...flamingo.." He murmured.

Doflamingo chuckled before looking at the street vendor. "I do so apologize for whatever trouble my slave here had caused. You see, he's a bit new to Dressrosa."

The street vendor shook his head and held up his hands. "No, no. No trouble here, sir! I had no idea he was yours. I'm so sor-"

Before the man could even finish, a strange noise that resembled cutting through some sort of material was heard and a soft _thump_ soon after. "Monet." Oh, so she was there too.

Crocodile attempted to get up many times by his body hurt all over and he couldn't help but fail. The young boy felt himself being lifted up and soon his head met with a combination of soft feathers and smooth fabric. He was being carried.

"Let go... I...can walk on...my own." Crocodile tried, clawing at Doflamingo's shirt.

"Not a chance."

Crocodile mumbled something in frustration and looked back to see Monet disposing of what looking to be a head and a body. Oh, so Doflamingo killed the man. Okay. Honestly, with what the street vendor had said to him, Crocodile was glad he was dead. He closed his eyes quickly once Monet was done and was walking back toward Doflamingo and the pathetic Crocodile.

"Sorry Crocodile. I suppose I miscounted the Belli." Monet said, but one could tell there was a smile behind her apology.

But Crocodile was already out like a light. The day was heavy on him and the the country was cruel to him. Of course this treatment isn't anything out of the usual for a slave but sometimes, it was just to cruel to treat one of the same species with such vile actions.

When Crocodile finally opened his eyes his ears were immediately turned deaf.

"He's awake!" Crocodile heard Baby 5 scream from the bedside.

Crocodile mumbled a fine string of curses as he could hear the door open and close. People crowded around the bed and Crocodile met them all eye to eye except for the flamingo sitting at the foot of the bed. He couldn't meet his eyes.

Many of the people soon left and the two that remained were Baby 5, much to Buffalo's distaste, and Doflamingo, much to Crocodile's distaste.

Crocodile answered many of Baby 5's questions and tried to calm her down when she got over-emotional. "You know, I really did need you back there." Crocodile said at one point, recalling that she loves being needed by someone, even a total stranger.

"Y-you did?" Baby 5 blushed and held one hand on her cheek and the other waving off Crocodile's simple comment.

"Of course. Who wouldn't need such a strong, reliable and courageous young lady like you?" Crocodile almost sighed in relief as Baby 5 stopped fretting over his minor injuries.

Doflamingo chuckled quietly at how Crocodile turned the situation in his favor. He let their small talk carry on for a few more moments before standing and motioning for Baby 5 to stop her meaningless conversation and let Crocodile get some much needed sleep.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" Baby 5 whispered to Doflamingo, much to Crocodile's annoyance because he could still hear her.

"Let me check. You just wait outside the door and I'll be a moment." Doflamingo grinned, holding the door open for the small girl to walk through. Once she did, Doflamingo closed said door and made his way to Crocodile who was expecting the very worse.

Doflamingo stood there by the bedside for a few moments with that damned smirk plastered on his face before he leaning down and pecked Crocodile's bruised lips before leaning next to his ear. "You know, as much as I would absolutely love to fuck you on this bed here and now, I'm afraid you need some sleep and some time to recover so you better do that. No snooping around or getting out of this bed."

Doflamingo didn't even wait for an answer as Crocodile's tomato red face was an answer enough. With his hand on the door knob, the door was opened and Dodlamingo was walking out to join Baby 5.

"ROT IN HELL YOU FUCKING FLAMINGO!"

"Oh, he'll be fine." Doflamingo said with a grin to Baby 5, shutting the door to Crocodile's room.

 **Author's Note**

Haha! Okay, this has to be my favorite chapter so far just because of those last few lines! I'm so sorry but I couldn't help it!


	7. Chapter 7

**Golden Captive**

 **Anti Apocolypse**

 **Chapter Seven**

There was no better word that could describe how it felt right now. He was _exhausted._ Utterly exhausted.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, sometimes whenever we get back to Dressrosa, the people often times throw numerous parties to celebrate the Young Master's return. So..." Baby 5 finished arranging the small decorations on some building. "the Young Master always wants us to help." The smaller girl finished.

"Oh." Was all the slave could say as he waited patiently for Baby 5 to finish and help him out his prosthetic on.

It had only been a few days since the events at Market Avenue and Crocodile's body was still so sore. He had a patch on his cheek, bandages around his ribs, his other functioning arm in a sling and his hip was in bandages too as well as his lower back, he also had a simple Band-AID covering a small cut that he had received when the street vendor tossed him and he took field-trip along the curb of the street.

Although Crocodile had been told many times not to use his arm or preform any form of work while in his current condition, the slave did it anyway. His arm didn't hurt so he could use it. But Baby 5 did tell him to sit down and rest every five minutes and that just got annoying. Crocodile didn't snap back at the young though, he knew she was only trying to help anyway.

"So, what do you do at these...parties?" Crocodile questioned, watching Baby 5 as she buckled his precious prosthetic to his wounded wrist, refusing any form of assistance from the injured slave.

"Well," she began with a smile on her face as she finally figured out how that blasted belt worked. "there's food and music and dancing!" Baby 5 finished.

Crocodile shrugged. It sounded boring and rather simplistic for such a big event. The boy was glad that he wouldn't be participating.

"And don't think you are not coming, Croco!" Baby 5 warned suddenly, adjusting a few decorations and moving on to a nearby lamppost. "This is your first time in Dressrosa, right?" Crocodile nodded slowly, he had never been anywhere besides hell and back again. "Then you have to enjoy your time here! It'll be fun, I promise!"

Crocodile _very_ much doubted that. "But then again, you _are_ a slave..." Yes, thank the heavens! "Nope! That just means that you really do have to come! I'm sure the Young Master will let you come! Besides, he woudn't dream of going anywhere without you, Croco!" Baby 5 teased, her voice entering different pitch areas as she did so. Crocodile just wanted to hit her over the top of the head with his prosthetic.

Who told her anyway? But with Doflamingo practically being at every turn Crocodile made, it wouldn't be too hard to notice. You would be a fool to even try to hide it. And Crocodile was no fool.

Crocodile cursed under his breath as sat down on the curb of the street, next to the lamppost Baby 5 was busy decorating. "Yeah right." He replied simply.

"You wanna bet on that?" Baby 5 teased again, a smirk forming on her face as she realized just how stubborn the rotting slave was.

No, Crocodile knew she would win. "Yeah, for shits and giggles." He declared.

Baby 5 laughed at her companion and finished with the lamppost. "What great timing then! 'Cause we are done~" Baby 5 chirped happily. Sometimes, Bahy 5's voice often reminded Crocodile of a baby bird.

Baby 5 gathered up the remaining decorations, got the large messenger bag and shoved everything inside of it, placing the fabric over her head so it was solace comfortably on her shoulder and so the bag was on the opposite side of the shoulder that held it up.

"C'mon! Let's head back to the palace!" Baby 5 grabbed at Crocodile's prosthetic and practically dragged him the long way back to the palace.

The palace was a little busy but Baby 5 seemed not to notice for she pushed and shoved her way through and did not stop for anyone. Crocodile was actually impressed. The two did eventually run into the king himself and they stood before him for many moments, catching their breath.

"Young Master! Can Crocodile come to the celebration tonight?!" Baby 5 asked, her tone of voice slightly demanding.

Doflamingo looked at Crocodile who was looking somewhere that wasn't near the king. "I see no reason as to why he shouldn't go." He replied, although their was no smirk in his voice and Crocodile looked up at Doflamingo. He was not himself; no smirk, no slouchy posture and no teasing.

Baby 5 smiled and thanked Doflamingo before walking off, Crocodile began to follow her when Doflamingo called him back.

"Crocodile, can I talk to you for a moment?" Doflamingo questioned. Baby 5 stopped and shooed Crocodile back toward Doflamingo. He didn't want to though. Not because he was afraid he's be molested and not be saved but because he's be near death and not be saved. Doflamingo had never used his full name when addressing him before, which was reason enough to be terrified.

The slave back-tracked his steps back to the other and refused to meet Doflamingo's shade-covered eyes. "What do you want." Crocodile said in a tired tone, hoping he would be cut short of whatever he had done.

"Do you think I'm stupid? Blind even?" Doflamingo demanded in a threatening voice.

"No." _Only sometimes._

"Then do what you are told. Your arm would've healed by now if you didn't use it all the time whenever you think no one notices."

Crocodile glared at Doflamingo. "Yeah right, who cares when it heals or if I'm crippled for life now because I use it; no one'd care anyways!"

"Baby 5 would."

"Oh! So that's what this is about!" Crocodile was so very tempted to just whack him over the side of the head with his prosthetic, maybe put some iron knuckles on it just for fun. "Admit it; you're just tryin' to save your own hide, _Young Master_." Crocodile spat at the other.

Doflamingo sneered at the other and walked towards Crocodile, the other backing up with every step the king made until he unfortunately became acquainted with the wall. Crocodile's cheek felt a swift breeze and he noted that Doflamingo's arm was mere inches from his face and Doflamingo's face was mere inches away as well. He was trapped and he hated it. Doflamingo's face just got closer and closer, Crocodile just stayed stuck like an injured bird being stalked by a hungry cat. Soon, Doflamingo's face just too close and the boy shut his eyes closed, not wanting to know what came next. Fucking hell.

He was kissed. Again.

In a pathetic attempt to get the king away from him, he pushed and shoved at the man's chest and shoulders with his prosthetic. But one arm with a wooden hand wasn't even close to being able to push the other away. The other lingered for mere moments before pulling away, body still uncomfortably close to the slave's.

"Go away."

"No."

There was silence and a grin plastered on Doflamingo's face. Crocodile couldn't help the prosthetic that pushed at the edge of the other's grin.

"Why are you always grinning."

"It's fun."

Crocodile scoffed. "And the world isn't a hell-hole."

Doflamingo chuckled at his slave's response. He really did pick a good one.

"Really though; get offa me." Crocodile tried again.

Surprisingly, Doflamingo did so and took several steps back; giving both a reasonable amount of space.

Crocodile looked at the king once more before shrugging and walking away. "See ya." He muttered. "I guess."

Doflamingo muttered a good-bye of his own before turning in the opposite direction of his slave and walking off. The king was rather pleased with his reluctant decision of going to the Saboady Archipelago in the first place, despite being against it mere weeks before. He was glad Crocodile was captured or sold off to the Auction House and he was glad no one found his behavior to be acceptable and buy him. Doflamingo, however, was still very pissed that those fools at the Auction House thought it was a good idea to chop Crocodile's hand off and toss it in the ocean to be eaten by some unknown sea creature only to choke on it and die. Nonetheless, Crocodile's existence was pleasing indeed.

 **Author's** **Note**

I'm really sorry that this is so short but I'm on vacation in Pheonix, Arizona now and I don't exactly have any time to write for _Golden Captive_ andI have well exceeded my time limit for chapter updates. But I'm really sorry for the shortness and I do plan on making it up by, hopefully, making the next chapter at least 3,000 words. Again, I'm really sorry!


	8. Chapter 8

**Golden Captive**

 **Anti Apocolypse**

 **Chapter Eight**

 _ **WARNING! THIS CHAPTER DOES CONTAIN SEXUAL ACTIVITIES!**_

The slave couldn't help it when his own master pulled him away from the crowd, giving the half-assed excuse of "I'm sorry but I need to talk to my _comrade_ here". Crocodile couldn't ignore the emphasis that was placed on _comrade,_ perhaps it was the way he had been treated; bumped into harshly, drinks spilled on, tripped, and just flat out being verbally abused. Perhaps Doflamingo had had enough when even Gladius walked over to the young master with a worried Baby 5 and brought the subject up.

Although his excuse was pitiful, Crocodile was eventually dragged away soon after a terribly haughty chorus of "of course sir" was sung. They probably expected him to be punished, expected the hallways to be marked with screaming, the door locked and a miserable slave limp on the floor in his own blood. For a moment, Crocodile began to wonder if that was what Doflamingo actually planned to do, with his malicious frown (well there's something) and the toothpick he was casually flicking back and forth between his teeth was roughly spat out in some god forbidden place of the palace.

And being roughly shoved into a random room, which turned out to be the King's bedroom, wasn't exactly a good factor to add to the _Whether or Not I'm Going to Die_ list.

"Why do you let them do that?"

What kind of words was the young king vomitting out? The answer was obvious, even for a dim-witted fool such as him.

"I don't have to tell you." Crocodile spat, mentally preparing himself for whatever was to happen, steeling his resolve. But the glare the smaller was receiving from behind those damn tinted shades was rather intimidating and his steeled mind melted into pathetic liquid drops of shit. "Perhaps I've just forgotten where I stand on the food chain. I'm a slave, I'm the lowest of the low, the worst breed of scum. It's only natural I get treated this way." Crocodile shrugged, looking a bit to the right side of Doflamingo's face, not wanting to make eye-contact with the king.

"You _might_ be just a slave. But you are _my_ slave." The predator approached the prey, the ironic differences disappearing from the room, basking in the newly acquired freedom as they hung in the thick air outside the room's door, invisible to all but the arrogant and the foolish.

"They've been gone for a while." Baby 5 pouted.

Crocodile shouted empty threats at the taller man, eventually muffled by pairs of flesh.

"You think he's alright?"

He was not alright with this situation.

"What if Croco's getting hurt?"

Jesus Christ why does getting your clothes ripped from your body hurt so much?

"Maybe he's alive but he's thinking about leaving us. It'd get kind of lonely though."

He was so gonna leave after this; with nothing to tie him back down to this god-forsaken palace, he was so gonna leave.

"Maybe he'll hold a grudge against us."

He would never live this down.

"Maybe he'll hate us."

He hates this man that was creating marks all over his body, taking his brain and tossing it in a fucking blender, pounding into him with everything he had.

"That'd be pretty bad."

He wasn't sure if it was out of anger or something else.

"We wouldn't be able to mess around with him."

He prayed it was out of anger, he hoped it was because of something else.

"Monet wouldn't have anyone to mess around with."

He was being irrational and foolish.

"I wouldn't have anyone to mess around with."

The maker of his wooden prosthetic was tossed on the ground forgotten, along with her first and final product.

"The Young Master wouldn't have anyone to mess around with either."

He hated how his body felt now, mixed emotions never had been a good sign.

"The palace would seem a lot bigger..."

He felt so incredibly small; with his insides feeling squished as something entirely new, and entirely unwelcomed mind you, invaded his personal bubble.

He was not used to this feeling of warmth from the body of another. He was used to the cold waters of slavery, devouring everyone that tried to buy him with his mismatching teeth and rough armor. He was used to watching with cold, golden eyes, waiting for the perfect moment to strike and retaliate. Watch them die as he crushed their necks in his mouth, destroyed their hopes and dreams with one swallow. He was a Crocodile. _He_ was the one who eats Flamingos for breakfast.

He swam in waters, slow and steady, the very trashing of his tail enough to strike fear into the hearts of anyone at the waters. He was the King. He ate the Flamingos.

Stealth was key, speed was key, patience was the lock. He had to wait to eat his meal, wait to feel the satisfaction of a good crunch. The feathers often got in the way, mostly clogging his throat making him distracted. But he enjoyed the hunt nonetheless.

He enjoyed the pathetic noises of surprise and alarm that escaped the birds, the crunch of their legs falling victim to his teeth. He's chase gulp down the males first after eating the legs and tearing off the wings of every single Flamingo he could capture. Females were helpless, the only thing they were good for was reproduction and survival of the bird-brained species. He enjoyed the struggle of a man, the relentless squeaking often made his ears bleed so he made no choice but to grab the sharp beak in his mouth and slowly, painfully tear it away from its very roots. The feathers fluttered down in a red haze and the sound of skin tearing could make a Crocodile cry.

The females were fun in their own pathetic way. He often tore out one of their wings, and bit off each claw from their legs. He would often hunt down their eggs, bring them in front of the Flamingos and slowly break open the shell with his teeth, often spitting out sharper edges and devouring softer. The fetus inside had its head bitten off and it's body squashed under heavy, armored claws. The mother's would scream and he would slowly eat away at their throats as they did.

It was his only known way of survival. Swimming in the cold waters of slavery, watching the royalty gawk at his misfortunes, their children laughing at him, cursing him; dead or alive. He swallowed Flamingo's whole in the night and killed their children by morning. He devoured their species whole.

Now, the feeling of a Flamingo pecking his own way through his once unbreakable armor of dirty scales, ravishing the skin and leaving cuts and bruises and marks. His pride, the very pride he collected and made from broken bones and lost hands with whipped backs, was devoured and swallowed as though it was a meal that was eaten after weeks without food. He felt dirty, all of his scales being plucked and tossed at the ground below revealing his pathetic and fragile skin. All his armor, reduced to mere specs of dust under the mere beak of a royal flamingo.

He hated that damn grin.

* * *

Crocodile felt warm near the lower regions of his body but even colder near the top. His toes relished in the warmth they had received but his eyes blinked furiously to keep himself warm. Perhaps it was because of the fact that he wore nothing but bites and bruises and a strong arm around his waist that offered no help.

And yet he did what he had done his whole life; struggle.

Crocodile managed to wiggle out of the grasp of the arm and sat at the edge of the bed, contemplating life and what it was now worth.

Generally, in the slave business, being fucked meant either two things; you are useful or you are useless. Crocodile believed it to be the latter.

There was a pained groan behind him and Crocodile did not have to look back to see who it was.

"What are you doing up so early?" Doflamingo muttered under his breath.

"Why are you fully clothed?" Crocodile questioned, remembering the feel of the King's clothing against his back.

"That party." It was the only answer Crocodile got.

The older said nothing while the other turned himself to face his slave's back.

"Stay here."

"No."

Crocodile was sick of this conversation. Doflamingo, although he was the "rightful" owner of Crocodile, often brought up the subject of Crocodile staying in the palace not as a slave, but as a human being.

Crocodile did want to stay. He liked Baby 5, dinner time, even Dressrosa (minus its people). But, Crocodile's desire to be free was as strong as his desire to chuck Doflamingo's feather coat into the ocean.

Crocodile sighed. He really did like this place... There was no helping it.

Doflamingo whined childishly from being the slave.

Crocodile prepared himself to stand up. "I've gotta go an-" Oh, he fell.

The flamingo peered over the side of the bed, face in the palm of his hand and devilish smirk dancing on his lips. "Hmm? Where is it you'll be going~?"

Crocodile managed to sit up, although it was hard with a stub of a hand, and turned his head around to curse at Doflamingo. "Goddamnit! It's your fault!" He accused.

Doflamingo continued to smirk. "Oh? If I do recall you were the reason I fucked you so hard. If you weren't so lewd and weren't moaning as loud as you were this never would've even happened~"

"SHUT UP!" Crocodile yelled. He really did hate this man.

Crocodile could hear the moaning of the bedsprings as weight was being shifted on the bed. Before he could even complain, he was lifted up.

"Wow! You're so light, Croco~ Are you sure you're eating well?" Doflamingo teased.

"Wh-what the flying fuck?! You stupid flamingo! Put me down!" Crocodile, out of complete instinct, grabbed onto the King's rather flashy shirt, trying his hardest not to look at Doflamingo.

"C'mon Croco~ Don't be like that!" Doflamingo turned about and set his prized possession down onto the bed, leaning over him ever so slightly. "Besides, what's the use of a crocodile if it can't swim?"

Crocodile's eyes looked down at the floor where all his tattered clothes were strung about. His one functional hand still gripping onto the shirt while his stub simply brushed against it before it settled itself on Crocodile's chest.

"I won't be long." Doflamingo murmured softly, so softly Crocodile wouldn't have been able to hear it if he wasn't so close.

Crocodile took a moment before he slowly let go of Doflamingo's flashy shirt. He scrunched his face up before suddenly flipping over, his back to the King. "Get lost you stupid flamingo." The slave muttered.

Doflamingo chuckled before leaning down further to lick the back of Crocodile's bare neck, enjoying the shudder he received. "As he wishes~"

The door opened and then closed.

 _What's the use of a crocodile if it can't swim?_

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE**

I have discovered this wonderful thing called a line.

ANYWAYS! So sorry for my absence! I have been working on a play called _The Jungle_ _Book_ (I played Shere Khan) and had no time to work on _Golden Captive_! So sorry! ^ But I hope to be a bit more active since the show is now over and it was a smash hit! WOOT!

Yes, this thing that Croco and Doffy are having is called sex. Don't judge me, dammit! u


	9. Chapter 9

**Golden Captive**

 **Chapter Nine**

 **Anti Apocolypse**

Why was it so damn cold?

"What's next, a dead body?" Crocodile murmured, flicking the trigger on his gun playfully.

"You're a bit late there, Croco-chan!" Baby 5 shouted, dragging a dead man with bullet wounds in his head and chest and teeth shoved up his nose. "Who did this?" Baby 5 grumbled unhappily. It's was quite disturbing.

"Sorry, Baby 5. That was me." Crocodile shrugged as he walked up next to the smaller girl, using his gun to brush away the bloody teeth from the corpse's nostrils.

"Why on earth would you do that?" Baby 5 giggled softly as Crocodile struggled to remove one tooth.

"Well, I can't exactly shoot an executive and get away with it." Crocodile muttered, slamming his gun on the icy ground and using his fingers to get the stupid tooth out of the nostril.

Baby 5 giggled softly, taking the corpse by the arms and dragging him away into an alley, eyeing a stain on his pants. "Did you shot anything else?" She asked, slowly.

"I swear to God I didn't shot his dick."

Baby 5 shook her head before walking to pick up Crocodile's dropped gun, holding it out for the slave. "You've only been assigned these tasks a few days ago and you're already acting like you've been here for years."

Crocodile smirked. "Maybe I'm just that good." Truth was, he was just practicing for what he planned to do to his owner.

"Let's head back. It's getting cold out here!"

* * *

"And we took care of the gang members too."

"Did you make it look natural?"

"Yep!"

"Then we're good."

Honestly, giving reports every time they went on a mission got boring. But at least Monet didn't assign them with Buffalo. Then it wouldn't have just been the gang leader and members dead.

Baby 5 smiled happily and Crocodile simply shrugged. It was only his third, no need to get excited over such a trivial thing.

"Oh and Croco! Don't forget to make dinner tonight!" That blasted Bird-Woman called.

Shit. He had hoped she'd forgotten.

"I'll help you out today, if you'd like." Baby 5 added, her fur coat already taken off to show off her maid outfit and growing curves. She was growing into a beautiful woman.

"Didn't you have plans to go ice-skating with Buffalo?"

"Oh yeah! I almost forgot! Sorry Croco-chan! Maybe next time!" And with that, she once again grabbed her coat and took off.

"Honestly." Crocodile sighed before walking off to the kitchen, the signs that once decorated the hallways of the palace were no longer needed and were already starting to peel off.

Opening the old wooden door with one hand, Crocodile noticed that everything was already laid out for him. That was good. With how short he was, he still couldn't reach the top cabinets without standing on the countertop. It was pretty embarrassing actually.

Looking over the actual ingredients, Crocodile noted to himself that this family rarely ate anything else besides meat and a few vegetables with Baby 5 and Buffalo stealing a piece of candy now and then after dinner. It was sickening almost. But then again, it was better then hard and moldy bread.

Crocodile took the pot filled with water and placed it on the hook that hung casually over the fire place. He casually tossed the meat in before walking back to the counter to chop the vegetables. The cutting board that was always pulled out for him was the only one with over zero dents. Those dents were mostly caused by Monet suddenly bringing up the damned flamingo or Doflamingo himself practically giving Crocodile a heart attack by doing things one shouldn't do when the victim has a knife in hand. They were fond memories though.

Crocodile ran his hand over the many dents that littered the otherwise smooth cutting board. It was hard to imagine that he was here so long. As a slave.

He had no memories of being in the palace as an actual human being. And he probably never would. He was a slave, less than human, lowest of the low, worst breed of scum on the planet. Crocodile was no human being, he was caged bird with a broken wing. He would never be free, only teased with the idea of freedom pushing against the bars of his thread-like cage. He would never be free.

Crocodile brought his hand over to the knife, taking it up in his hand as he scooted a carrot over to the cutting board with his wooden hand. The vegetables were already washed so he simply began cutting. He would never be able to properly wash them anyways. Only soil them even more with every touch of his filthy, dirty, enslaved hand.

Crocodile brought a plate over toe the cutting board before sliding the pieces of carrots on the blade of the knife, only to dump them onto the plate. Crocodile then moved a stool over near the fire-place and set the plate down. With chopsticks in hand, he managed to snag a nicely boiled piece of meat and dropping it down on the plate on the stool. He then set the chopsticks down on the stool, picking the plate up and setting it near the cutting board so he could cut up some pieces of broccoli to add. Crocodile repeated this process for every plate until he was down to the last piece of boiled meat. It took him a while for sure, but it was mostly because he was lacking a hand.

It was a miracle he could even handle making dinner for the entire family, snagging just a few pieces of carrots for himself of course. Crocodile took a huge tray that was laid out on the counter top and placed it near the already filled plates. Picking them up one by one and setting them down on the tray before picking it up and transferring the food filled plates to the Mess Hall. One by one, the plates were unloaded and placed in their proper position for the family to devour mere minutes later. Silverware was already brought out so he had no reason to worry about dinner anymore. Now it was just the tedious chore of cleaning the used utensils. He only had to worry about the dishes after dinner, after everyone had gotten out of the Mess Hall. The slave still felt uncomfortable around most of the family.

It was strange how despite his rank of slave, the family treated him like a child. Granted they did tease him like some infant but it was the rank of a human being so in itself, it was a blessing. They even gave him a gun. _A gun_. One that could keep and even use freely. You would never catch him without it. A new habit was Crocodile just absentmindedly flicking the trigger. Not like he could accidentally shoot someone or something. But Doflamingo did approve of this new habit, as it was better then Crocodile just absentmindedly flicking his stump of a hand, forcing his already abnormal skin to become even more distorted. It had come to the point that Crocodile needed decent medical attention, although the proud slave would never admit it to anyone, not even Baby 5.

But it did get worse. When Crocodile was working in the kitchen, fixing dinner, he would get a ticket for the Train of Thought and ride until the kitchen door opened or he cut his distorted wrist. Like now for example.

After returning to the kitchen from the Mess Hall after setting dinner, he would often cut himself up a carrot, so he didn't have to fidget under that damned gaze of Doflamingo's. But he ended up cutting a huge chunk of his flesh off once again. Forth time this month. It was getting dangerous.

"Shit." Crocodile murmured under his breath as he shoved the already chopped pieces of carrot in his pocket. He held his wrist in his hand, pushing together the cut flesh and the distorted skin, hoping it would at least limit how much blood flowed out.

Crocodile shoved his wrist into his other pocket, scowling at the pain it caused. He proceeded to place everything that was originally brought out for him back to their rightful places; carrying on as if nothing had every happened. The pocket to his black shorts became stained but it was noticeable unless you looked down at his shorts, which no one would be doing, so he was fine to carrying on his regular activities after he ran the wound under cold water. He refused to get it treated.

But, his luck wasn't on his side today. "Croco-chan!" Baby 5 opened the door to be greeted with a wounded Crocodile nursing his injury in a pot of freezing water.

"Hi."

"Croco-chan! What happened to you?!" Baby 5 immediately rushed to Crocodile's wound, looking at it with wide eyes.

"I just cut myself. No big deal."

"We need to get you to the Young Master."

Crocodile immediately yanked his arm away from Baby 5's hands. "I'll be fine, really."

"It could get infected! _Then_ what will you do?!" Baby 5 demanded, pulling on his arm.

"Scoop the infected part out with a spoon." Baby 5 sighed, rolling her eyes.

"No, we are going to see the Young Master! He'll be able to patch you up in no time!" Crocodile was about to protest one more time but the serious look on Baby 5's face was too much, and needed to be cleaned off such a beautiful face soon. It did not suit her.

Crocodile huffed, his limbs growing less tense. BabY 5 smiled and dragged him out the door.

* * *

Baby 5 had left him. Left him with Doflamingo. **Alone**.

"How did this happen again?" Doflamingo huffed annoyed.

"I cut myself with a knife when fixing dinner." Crocodile muttered in return.

Doflamingo shook his head, grinning slightly. The King seated himself in front of his slave who was seated on a massive bed; one he was all too familiar with. Doflamingo took the wounded wrist and his smirk dropped when he saw the multiple scars that littered the distorted skin.

"This has happened more than once?"

Crocodile shrugged and Doflamingo continued.

The king used his Devilish powers to stitch the wound yet he had to rely on simple first-aid tools for covering it. Soon enough, after squeezing his eyes shut throughout the stitching, Crocodile looked at the bandages that covered his wrist, frowning.

"It amazes me how stupid one can be." Doflamingo suddenly spoke.

Crocodile glared at the taller. "People are allowed to think, flamingo."

Doflamingo smirked once more as he leaned in closer to the already uncomfortable slave. "Oh? And what was it you were thinking of that caused you to wound yourself so?" He teased.

"Fuck off!"

Doflamingo pouted, "clearly" offended by Crocodile's harsh language.

Crocodile scooted off the bed, making his way towards the door, hoping to get out with no clingy flamingo. But he was a fool for thinking such as his body almost immediately froze just as his fingertips brushed against the doorknob that lead to the outside world.

Crocodile was turned around to face the younger, a scowl on his face and a death glare painted in his eyes. "What?!"

Doflamingo took the bandaged wrist and brought it up to his lips, hovering over the soft material before kissing it, eventually giving it back to Crocodile. "Don't stay in the clouds for too long ore else you might get stuck in there." It was he said before Crocodile barged out the door, an inferno of a blush scorching his face, leaving behind a smirking King.

* * *

 **Author's Note**

Woot! It's another chapter!

I just want to end this by saying thank you guys so much for all of the support you have given me! I honestly would not still be slaving over these chapters if it was not for you all! So thank you so much and I hope you enjoy this chapter!


	10. Chapter 10

**Golden Captive**

 **Chapter Ten**

 **Anti Apocolypse**

He had lingered in that dreaded palace for three years. Three fucking years. He had been spat on, kicked, trashed, slapped, mocked, and every possible insult known to mankind was spat at him. The people of Dressrosa treated him worse then a Fishman. And he would kill them all for it.

His gun was his ally, his best friend in war and war, his anger was whispered into the trigger and the bullets pierced his victims. He was well known throughout Dressrosa as a killer, one of the worst among Doflamingo's family. He was the bird with a bite that would leave your finger broken.

Since his murdurous rampages, he had grown more distant from the family; disappearing days at a time and hardly speaking to anyone. He'd brush past everyone; even the King and Baby 5. It was like this more many months now. He never showed up at Diner and when someone would enter the Kitchen during the time Crocodile was supposed to prepare the meal, the dishes would be washed and the food was set out, blood-stained paper towels littered the trash can. His arms were covered in scars, although no one knew because he never wore any other kind of shirt that didn't have long sleeves. He was once the crocodile that would bite your hand off if you even made any motion to get closer, now he was broken; his scales ripped from his body and his teeth missing. But that did not stop him from biting.

During those past few months that caused the change in the slave; the King himself, grew even more pissed off by the second.

With Crocodile's attitude, Doflamingo had been sex deprived. Never a good sign. He had been bringing sluts, whores off of every street he could find to try and satisfy his needs. No position, no fetish, no moans brought out the same feeling as when he was screwing his slave. The king swore that when he saw that damned Croc, he'd take them right then and there; in the hallway, the mess room, in public. Fuck them all, he was the god damned king, he could do whatever pleased him. And that was what he would do.

* * *

Evening was the only time the slave chose to wander the halls.

Crocodile sat up from his bed, tugging the sleeves of his black shirt down as long as they would go. His gun placed in his back pocket, the edges of his shirt tugged down long enough for it to be hidden from plain sight.

Crocodile didn't bother with putting on anything for his feet. During the past few years, he had actually received a pair of shoes as a present. They were the right size and everything, although Crocodile only wore them when he went out on missions or a job, regular chores weren't good enough for his shoes.

The slave walked out the door, making sure it shut behind him quietly, just incase anyone had retired early. ... Geez, when did he become so considerate.

He began his walk by turning to the right, the quickest way to get to the roof of this mansion. Around this time, most of the family would be at Dinner. Thank you Baby 5 for teaching him how to tell time.

Since he had become "a part of the family", Baby 5 and some of the other members actually taught him a few things that were important if you wanted to become a gangster, or at least a member of Dorlamingo's stupid family. Same thing though. He had learned the alphabet, hot to shoot a gun, weaknesses of the human body so you can land a killing blow, how to correctly spit on someone's grave, how to count, and so many other things. Crocodile believed that some of these things weren't exactly necessary but he had learned them none the less.

Crocodile walked to the door that lead to the Mess Hall, it was loud: although that wasn't unusual. He peered in through the window, he still had to stand on the tips of his toes but he could at least see through the foggy window. Everyone was present, minus Buffalo 'cause he had a cold from there last mission together (and multiple gun shot wounds from Crocodile's gun. He was never the best at controlling his temper). The food he had cooked was already gone for the most part. It was kind of funny actually. When Crocodile first started preparing the food, there was always leftovers, but now, the food is inhaled every night. He had to thank Monet for it, as much as he personally hated to admit that. Baby 5 was his Guinea Pig when it came to actually tasting his food. At the first week, Baby 5 was stuck in bed vomiting. But once she healed, she came wobbling back to Crocodile asking if she could try more of his cooking. Crocodile didn't get it at first and only put his poison food in her mouth to humor her, but it was a huge help and Baby 5 never got food poisoning now. Benefits for everyone he supposed.

Crocodile's eyes wondered up the table, past everyone until he got to the head of the table where the regal king sat. The King was talking to no one in particular, just listening. It was very unlike him, only listening, usually he'd be the one talking at every chance he got. Weird.

Crocodile stood at his regular height, staring at the knob that would open the door for him. He sighed, they hadn't seen him in a while: most of this month actually. God knows Doflamingo was pissed. He only lived once.

Crocodile turned the knob and opened the door, walking in the Mess Hall as though he had done this every night. The other members of the family didn't even notice until Baby 5 shouted, "Croco-chan!".

All eyes were on him.

"Yo." Was all Crocodile said before sitting in the spot where he had sat on his first day as a King's slave.

Baby 5 seemed ecstatic to see him and everyone was just surprised. Crocodile never showed up for Dinner, what made tonight so special?

"You're hair's gotten longer." Baby 5 pointed out.

"Yeah, I was thinking of cutting it soon. It just gets in the way like this." Crocodile stated, taking a strand and rubbing it between his fingers. His hair has grown to the point that it was brushing against his neck. It tickled often and it distracted him.

"I think it suits you." Baby 5 pushed back his hair so no strands were left to block his face. "Especially like this! You look a bit like a crime boss!"

Crocodile chuckled. "I guess I do."

"All you need is a fancy coat and a cigar and you're good!" Baby 5 chuckled.

"And a hook." Crocodile added, raising his stump. "I would want to look intimidating if I'm gonna terrorize kingdoms."

"If you're going to terrorize kingdoms then that hook better be well crafted." Doflamingo plainly added.

"And it should be gold!" Baby 5 said.

"Gold? I dunno." Crocodile muttered. "Where on Earth would a slave be able to get gold aside from stealing it?"

"King's have gold." Doflamingo said.

"But where would we find-" Crocodile covered Baby 5's mouth and stopped her from saying anything else. There was a King sitting right next to them.

When he was sure Baby 5 wouldn't say anything more, he lifted his hand away from her mouth and earned a hard kick from said person in the shin. No one kicks Crocodile in the shin and gets away with it. Not even if you're Baby 5. Crocodile retaliated by shoving his foot hard into Baby 5's knee, causing that knee to painfully hit the other and therefor caused the targeted knee to hit Gladius.

...

Let's just say that Dinner was no Dinner but instead the Civil War. It wasn't Crocodile who caused it, nope. It was the pretty little girl sitting next to him. He swore.

Doflamingo himself, stood and grabbed Crocodile by the shoulder, dragging him behind.

He dragged the other all the way up to the roof of the palace before tossing him onto the shingles.

"That hurt you flamingo bastard!" Crocodile rubbed at his side where the tips of the roof's shingles so kindly stabbed at his frail side.

Doflamingo simply shrugged, tugging his feathered coat before tossing it at the smaller who just barely caught it.

Holding it in his palm, Crocodile looked at Doflamingo who just peered over the side of the roof; gazing at the quiet streets that guided only a few people into the night.

Without a word, Crocodile took the coat and wrapped it around his shoulders, gripping very few fathers with his skinny hands. He enjoyed the feeling of feathers brushing against his bare skin, it calmed him somehow.

"So, I hear you shot a cat from up here." Doflamingo stated suddenly.

Who spilled their guts this time? "It was an accident."

"And three pieces of clothes on some laundry line was an accident too I take it?"

"What do you want?" Crocodile demanded, his face flushed from the embarrassment of being caught in his guilty pleasures.

Doflamingo sat down next to the slave, looking through the lit window that showed the silhouettes of a woman scolding a child, probably because it was past their bed time or they ate candy before going to bed. For shame.

"What? I haven't seen you this past month." The King mocked offense.

"I was thinking."

"Ya sure do that a lot now a days~" Doflamingo tapped a finger on his arm covered by the thin material known as a sleeve. "Thinker." He teased.

"Like you would know what thinking' like." Crocodile swatted Doflamingo's hand away with his own. The King's finger got too close to his stump for him to ignore it.

"I'm offended." The taller said dramatically, placing a hand on his chest, rolling his eyes behind his dark shades.

"You seem to be offended a lot these days." Crocodile flicked Doflamingo's shoulder, payback for his tapping finger. "Get offended."

Doflamingo, however, did not seat Crocodile's hand like Crocodile had done to him. Instead he attempted to strike up some pathetic attempt at a conversation. "Why do you shoot random things at night?"

"What? A slave can't vent his frustrations out in peace?" The once lit window now turned pitch black. Crocodile fished out his gun, making sure there were bullets in it before aiming it at the window, pulling the trigger before the King could stop him from doing anything rash. All that could be heard from the broken window was a child screaming for its mother, screaming sorry for eating candy before bed-time. "Oops." Was all Crocodile said before preparing his gun for anything shot. There were two people down below the roof they were sitting on. No one would miss them.

Crocodile aimed his gun in a position that if he was lucky, which he usually was, he would be able to shoot his bullet through both of their heads. The slave was about to pull the trigger until he felt strings wrap around his hands, suddenly finding his movements being controlled by another. He gave his gun to the other sitting beside him.

"Don't just go killing my people without my permission."

Crocodile sighed. "Oh, so terribly sorry. I'm not used to spectators."

"You're heartless."

Crocodile shrugged. With a quick movement of his fingers, the strings that bound the slave burned away until Crocodile was free to control his own movements. All he did was pull the feathered coat still wrapped around his shoulders closer to his slightly chilled body. He murmured curses under his breath directed straight at the other.

Doflamingo, however, had other plans and instead chose to lean in close to his slave, his breath barely ghosting against Crocodile's bare neck.

"Play a game with me." The King murmured.

"I'm sick of your games."

"If you win, you're free from this place. You would no longer be a slave."

* * *

 **Author's Note**

Well; guess what I got involved in again. That's right, it's another play. I'm sorry guys but updates will once again be slow but HEY! IS THAT A PLOT I SEE?!

I just love leaving you guys in cliffhangers and then not updating until it's like a year later!


	11. Chapter 11

**Golden Captive**

 **Chapter Eleven**

 _This chapter does contain sexual activities_

"You're lying."

The King pulled away and looked at the slave who was unable to tell what emotion was hidden in those eyes of his which were hidden behind tinted shades.

"No. I'm not."

The absolute seriousness in the King's voice unnerved Crocodile and all he could do was look anywhere but at the younger man. Doflamingo seemed to be okay with the lack of attention and instead continued to wrap his long arms around the scrawny man and pull and tug him into his lap. There were no complaints, just silent thoughts.

"Play my game?" That long tongue that Crocodile had become acquainted with many times, slithered along the back of his neck (he actually noticed there to be a small dent on the left side of the tongue from where Crocodile had bitten him).

"What are the conditions first." Crocodile could feel the grin get larger.

"Become my Right-Hand man for the month. If you can do it without giving up then you can become a free man and if you do give up," Doflamingo bit down on the lower neck "then I will treat you like an actual slave."

Crocodile, hunched over as he was unable to focus on anything but that fucking tongue on his neck.

"Of course," there was one final lick before the slick muscle returned to its owner "being my Right-Hand man is rather dangerous: you might even die since it seems all of Dressrosa knows about the 'King's Golden Captive'." Crocodile snorted at his newfound nickname. He was just glad that the country did not bother to seek out his name for he didn't like the way the people said it. They said it with venom (although he was used to that), and with a tone that made Crocodile feel like a child being scolded.

"However," Crocodile felt his skin being pulled by the teeth he also became acquainted with several times during his time in Dressrosa "being my Right-Hand man also means that you have to stay with me for most of the day and do whatever I request of you." Doflamingo smirked at Crocodile's reaction to "doing whatever the King requested" because the poor slave knew exactly what that entitled and he did not like that, one bit.

"So, what's it gonna be Croco-boy?"

Crocodile was silent as he looked up at the darkening sky that had begun to be clouded by foreboding clouds. It looked like it was going to rain. Crocodile let out a small chuckle. How fitting for this fucked up country. Crocodile, however, did not exactly wish to be outside when the liquid drops started precipitating down onto the two bodies on the roof. He never like water, even drinking it seemed like a chore.

"Well?" That voice the slave had grown to hate spoke up "you do realize I'm not letting go until you answer." Doflamingo hummed.

Crocodile scoffed softly. "If I do whatever you say for a month; I can be free. If I try and fail to do a simple command; I continue to be treated like dirt."

"Worse then dirt."

Crocodile shivered, a small rain drop falling on the bridge of his nose. "I accept your game." Crocodile turned his head as far as he could without breaking his neck. "Now, can we go back in? It's cold out here damn it!"

Doflamingo's arms, however, did not slacken their grip and inside remained tight, leaving Crocodile to hopelessly struggle. "Don't wanna." Was all Crocodile got as a reply.

"The hell, just let me go you stupid flamingo!" Crocodile slapped Dodlamingo lightly on the arm that was unfortunately close to him. His futile attempts at escape eventually dulled down until the hitting turned into soft tapping which then turned into silence.

"I hate you." Crocodile weakly managed as two more rain drops fell into his messy hair and onto one of his hands.

"I know." Crocodile felt the grin on the back of his neck. It sickened him. It sickened him to realize, just how far he had fallen.

* * *

He was fucking cold.

The royal pain in the ass had held onto Crocodile for too long. Long enough for the two to be almost completely soaked as the rain had fallen more quickly and had dampened their clothes.

Crocodile shivered as he was seated onto Doflamingo's bed, a strand of damp hair brushed away by warm fingers.

"You bastard." Crocodile managed through his chattering teeth. He did his best not to allow the King the ability to hear his shivering teeth wrestling each other but some sounds were desperate to escape. So the chattering continued.

"I hate you." There went Crocodile's shirt.

"I know." Doflamingo murmured back as he fished out a blanket and tossed it at the older.

"I hate you." Crocodile said again, granted it was muffled by the blanket having landed on his head.

"I know." Doflamingo said again as he stripped himself of his shirt and now soaked feather-coat.

"I hate you." Crocodile began to wrap the blanket around his shivering form, the thick blanket offering wonderful heat to the slave.

"I know." Doflamingo repeated as he seated himself on his bed.

Then there was silence. The slave was never used to silence. At the Auction House, their was no such thing as silence. There was always a sound; whips on flesh, a cigarette being burned on skin, the sound of chains and mother's weeping over their children and husband's crying over their wives. It was sick. But he was used to it.

"Why do you hate me so much." He could no feel that damn smirk on his cold skin, just lips brushing against freezing flesh.

"Why?" Crocodile repeated. "Because you bought me."

Dodlamingo takes the simple answer the slave had given him and asks for another. "Many slaves would rather be bought than left to rot in the Auction House."

Crocodile huffed at the silent demand for a better answer. "I was ready to die. There was nothing left for me to live for, of course I would welcome the bullet. But then you came along." He pulled his legs in, the outside of his feets brushing against Doflamingo's inner thigh. "But then you came along. You and your tall stature and your large stride and that goddamned feather coat. You walked in like you owned the world and we were just the subjects to your overly large kingdom." Crocodile sneered at the memory. "I wanted to kill you when I saw you from being the stage curtain. I wanted to strangle you."

"And yet you didn't even know me." The King chuckled.

Crocodile huffed again, although this time with more offense.

"And now? Do you still want to strangle me?"

"No," he admitted "I want to put a bullet through your skull."

Doflamingo laughed loudly at this, not caring how late in the night it was. "How cruel!"

"I think it's quite merciful. Quick and painless compared to the slow and pain filled matter of suffocation." Crocodile objected.

Doflamingo sighed, nuzzling his nose in the hair of his prey. His hands coming up to the shoulders of the other, tugging him in a diagonal direction backwards. Crocodile sighed as he turned himself around, both of his legs on the King's right side with his hands still clutching the blanket pitifully: the slave facing the king with a death glare in his golden eyes.

The glare did not intimidate the King however, and instead caused him to smirk wildly, his face leaning in closer to his captive's. One of his hands grabbed the calf of Crocodile's left leg, folding it and unfolding it in such a way so the slave was situated with both legs on opposite sides of Doflamingo, trapped.

"I took pity on you." A hand slid upwards, up the scrawny man's leg. "I had read your documents, how you were captured after having killed two of my men. How you fought so hard, so much, and for so long that they cut your hand clean off and even then you would not stop struggling." The hand slid upward; up his chest, over his shoulder, down his arm, pausing at the stump of a hand. The feeling sent shivers up the others spine. "They had to knock you unconscious in order to bring you on the ship for Saboady Archipelago." Doflamingo smiled at Crocodile's reaction. "The Golden Crocodile of Alabasta. That's where you got your name, no?" One hand played with the fleshy stump under the blanket while the other went around his back to prevent any hopes of escaping. He was truly trapped now.

"Shut up."

* * *

There was that silence again.

There was no sound; simply skin on skin, wrestling tongues, and blankets that had long fallen to the ground, joining the clothes that long since fallen off of the naked bodies. It was utter silence.

Crocodile didn't mind the silence this time. It might've been suffocating, that or the tongue that was current wrestling with his own, but it wasn't all too painful, yet it was unexpected. The silence at the Auction House was quiet, but Crocodile knew what was actually happening behind the thin veil of lies. Here; in a bed with his own Master being stretched and pulled and entered in ways he once never thought were possible, the silence was deadly. Crocodile could never predict the future here. He hated the feeling of not knowing the simple things hidden in complex wrapping.

Crocodile bumped his nose against the other's, pulling his attention away from his ear and more towards his lips. They met halfway.

"Are you giving in to me?" There was that blasted smirk.

"I ain't giving in to shit." The older grit his teeth in disgust. No one would know if the disgust actually existed.

With that smirk, the slave was pushed down to the soft mattress of the bed, trapped in by a body much larger then his own. He slid his hands up the thin layer of tanned skin and gripped the back of his neck. "You're warm." He muttered absentmindedly.

"You're freezing." The King smirked back, leaning down once more for that sweet toxication of false affection. "You're only warm here," there was a finger up against his lips; the very nail peeking into his mouth. That same finger eventually slid down: past his throat, past his chest, past his abdomen, past his genitals and slipping under to the only other entrance into the slave's body. "and here."

"Fuck you." Crocodile flinched at the sudden intrusion of a finger in his body. In his _fucking body_. Not cool, this was not okay.

"That is the idea, Croco-boy." One day, he'd find a way to wipe that smile clean off the King's face, be it with a knife or with his own god damned hand.

"Tight as ever, I see." Two fingers. Three fingers. Crocodile lost count when his entrance was violated. It only hurt for a moment though, eventually the fingers just became another unwelcome aspect of Crocodile's life. And there were several of those.

In and out. Apart and together. In and out. Apart and together. Gone.

Crocodile looked down his scrawny body in shock at the sudden loss of the warm intrusion. Only to look back the ceiling, or wherever there was no face with a bat shit crazy smirk on it, and questioned _all_ his life choices.

"You ready?" Despite the worrying question, there was no genuine concern in the voice.

"How kind of you." Despite the kind statement, there was nothing but sarcasm.

The previous warmth of the fingers was replaced with a different warmth. One that Crocodile was not okay with. The pain lasted longer then the fingers. It took up more space then the fingers, and it made Crocodile more disgusted with himself more then the fingers. Why did he agree to this 'game' again? The only winner was Doflamingo, no matter how many false hopes and packages of lies arrived on your doorstep.

In, and out. In, and out.

The pace was slow, barely any movement whatsoever as Crocodile slowly adjusted to the new intrusion.

In and out. In and out.

Eventually, it was quick. There was more force behind the thrusts and for a moment, Crocodile felt sorry for the bed. Soft sounds escaped his mouth.

In. Out. In. Out.

Now, he _really_ felt sorry for this bed. The thrusts were strong yet sloppy and the room was filled with lewd sounds and simple thoughts.

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. Gone.

In his massage overload on pleasure and unfamiliar feelings, Crocodile hadn't even noticed the warmth had gone and left behind a cold liquid. He was so done with sex.

* * *

The blanket was back and the aches had just started setting in his lower back. He was oh, so done with sex. He felt sticky and gross and wanted to leave this god forsaken room. But no, this damned game of Doflamingo's chained him to the King's side. A thorn in both sides.

"I have a meeting tomorrow." Crocodile looked up to see that tall every looking figure standing over him.

"And? I doubt they let slaves in. Find someone else to be your secretary." Crocodile grumbled, shoving his face in the pillow hoping for some therapy.

"They won't let a slave in. But they will let in the King's Right Hand man."

"How long is this game of ours again?" There was a weight behind him in the bed.

"A month." There were then arms around his thin waist and a smirk grazing the back of his neck.

"Has it been a month yet?"

* * *

Author's Note!

Don't look at me! I've been soooo busy with school, and motivation issues, and my own health that I could not focus on Golden Captive or almost a whole year! But I don't plan to drop this story yet! So deal with me please...


	12. Holiday Special!

The kingdom made Crocodile want to puke, scratch his stub of a hand, and then proceed to purge his stomach of any contents it might've still had.

"Since when does a Summer season celebrate a winter event?" The slave had asked Baby 5 once she had shoved a bag of things that needed to be wrapped and placed under a generous tree Crocodile had helped to put up not even two days prior to this chaos.

"I dunno." Baby 5 answered honestly. "But it's something the kingdom had always celebrated so the Young Master thought it appropriate to continue the tradition once we took over!" She was growing more educated and beautiful by the second.

"So you just want me to wrap these up and put them under a tree?" Crocodile looked down at the bag of presents that were rather crudely labeled in his hand.

"Well," the young maid twisted and twirled her foot, almost although she was attempting to dig her foot into the tile of the palace, as she spun a single lock of midnight black hair with a small, pristine finger; mimicking the look of an innocent young girl. But Crocodile knew better. "I was rather hoping that you could write the label for them. You've been practicing all that Calligraphy stuff and I was hoping you could help a little girl out."

Crocodile sighed as he shifted the weight of the presents from his arm that lacked a girl onto the arm that could hold something properly. "You'll have to help me then." Baby 5's eyes lit up as she heard that sentence spill from Crocodile's mouth. "I surely couldn't wrap all these present by myself. I do only have one hand after all."

Baby 5 bounced up and down at the thought and eagerly snatched back the present she had previously given to the slave and bounded off to the living area and plopped down on the cushions. Crocodile scratched at his arm where the presents had once dug into, now they had left some small indents in his skin and a large red mark. He walked over to one of the small tables near the area Baby 5 had already begun to take all the presents she had collected from the other family members and collected the wrapping paper Sugar and Corazon had selected for the festivities. Crocodile then tossed them on the cushion opposite side of Baby 5 and her presents. They would begin their tyranny upon the unwrapped presents and they worked together for hours upon end.

Crocodile took note of what the family had bought for other members. Monet had bought Sugar a beautiful bowl for her odd obsession with grapes despite the young girl being only twelve. Both Buffalo and Baby 5 purchased Corazon a sweater that said "I'm on fire!" and Gladius had gotten Buffalo Duck Tape (Crocodile snickered and when Baby 5 looked over his shoulder, she couldn't help but chuckle as well). For the wrapping part of this whole process, Crocodile couldn't do much considering his one hand, so Baby 5 would wrap the paper with Crocodile's precise guidance while Crocodile would rotate the objects so Baby 5 could wrap it better. Baby 5, out of silly pity, would allow Crocodile to place the bow, as long of Baby 5 got to chose the color of it. They worked diligently throughout the day with very few distractions. Monet was kind enough to supply Baby 5 with snacks and a tall glass of water and Sugar would sit down and attempt to help Crocodile with wrapping whilst Baby 5 would take a break. Eventually, when Monet had seated herself on the arm of the couch with Sugar leaning against her plump thigh and Baby 5 holding tiny Sugar's hand and Crocodile leaning against the very edge of the small coffee table that supported the wrapping paper, the topic of the Anual Snowfall came up.

"Monet, you will be doing the Snowfall this year again right?" Baby 5 has casually brought up in the middle of their break.

"Of course. Sugar and the kingdom are counting on me to bring this Snowfall." Monet paused in patting Sugar's head to adjust her peculiar glasses. "Which reminds me, this will be your first Christmas as with us, correct?" Monet looked down at Crocodile with a gaze that rivaled Doflamingo's own as her eyes shined through her glasses.

Crocodile simply nodded, expecting Monet or even Baby 5 to explain how an island such as Dressrosa could have a snow and how it involved Monet.

"I suppose you must be a little confused regarding this situation then. Not too long ago, I ate a Devil Fruit; one of the many devices around the world that have the ability to grant other-worldly powers to a consumer." Crocodile nodded, he knew all this. "Well, I ate the Snow-Snow Fruit, I have the ability to manipulate and even create snow as I see fit. The Young Master thought it wise to use my abilities and make the Kingdom more joyous by making snow fall around the kingdom." Monet crossed her legs and placed her chin in the palm of her hand in a most piteous way. "But I still have much to learn about my power and I'm afraid I will require some help when it comes to this years Snowfall." When Sugar twitched during her slumber, Monet immediately resumed stroking through the thick strands of hair. "Are you two up for the task?"

Baby 5 jumper up and down in her cushion on the couch, clearly excited by this whole ordeal. "Yes! Yes! Yes! I've always wanted to help with the Snowfall! Of course I'll help! I'll gladly help!" Both Crocodile and Monet chuckled at the little maid's little show of enthusiasm.

"I'm not necessarily opposed to the idea myself. However, what does helping out entail?" Crocodile questioned once Baby 5 had calmed down the slightest bit.

"Well, I am not yet prepared to make snow fall throughout the entire kingdom. So, there are usually four stations; one in the West, one North, one South, and one East in the kingdom. All four people will be stationed in one part of Dressrosa. You will all have a large bucket filled with my snow and you will sprinkle that snow throughout your section." Monet simply explained as she reached down to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Sugar's ear.

"That seems oddly simply for an operation so important." Crocodile dryly noted.

"Trust me, with my snow, it will last a lot long then it may seem." Monet chuckled as she elegantly slid off the arm of the couch and picked a still-sleeping Sugar into her arms. "Sugar and I will be in the East section of Dressrosa, Baby 5 can handle the South section and Diamante already agreed to tend to the West section. Crocodile can have the North part of the kingdom." Monet stated rather simply before patting Baby 5 on the head and heading to her room so she could place Sugar down and continue with her own fair share of holiday chores.

Baby 5 giggled before she handed Crocodile the next present so she could wrap it accordingly. Crocodile simply smiled at the childish joy she exhibits as he allowed Baby 5 to tug and pull at the present he held in his hands before focusing on the task at hand.

* * *

The next couple of days had passed rather quickly as the Don Quixote family scurried around the abode in an obvious rush to get ready. Crocodile had finished wrapping his own presents that he had bought from the spare money he would occasionally get in place of an actual paycheck. The slave also assisted with other chores such as helping to cook the family meal and helping Doflamingo understand what the hell all his paperwork and documents said before he just recklessly signed them like the idiot he was.

"Croc, come sit with me!" Doflamingo had called out the day before Christmas with a more childish quirk to his voice.

Not exactly wanting to be controlled like a puppet today, Crocodile set all his papers down on the chair he once occupied before taking cautious steps towards Doflamingo's bed.

"You called?" Crocodile asked sarcastically, not quite wishing to make eye contact with the very King of his nightmares. Doflamingo casually patted the spot next to him and Crocodile simply rolled his eyes as he climbed onto the plush mattress of the King's bed.

"How's your month so far? The winter season is treating you well I do hope, fufufufu!" Doflamingo asked, his voice filled to the brim with sarcasm.

"Dressrosa winter is the same as any winter in Alabasta." Crocodile replied with a matter-of-fact tone as he situated himself in a crossed-legged sitting position with his back against those stupidly comfortable pillows.

As soon as Crocodile's back hit the pillow, Doflamingo had his face shoved deep in Crocodile's lap, his arms wrapped around the slave's waist and his jaw brushing against Crocodile's calf and when that bastard of a King dared to look up Crocodile, his jaw and cheek caressed Crocodile's inner thigh. The younger simply smiled like nothing was wrong. The elder simply averted his eyes and sighed.

"Aww, Croco, no need to look like that!" Doflamingo's chin stabbed at Crocodile's leg as he chuckled.

Crocodile simply huffed in response to the possibility of getting envolved in a childish banter with his own damn master.

So silence befell them. The only sounds were the soft breathing of two respiratory systems working against each other and the very soft, barely audible, half of a shadow of a sound of Crocodiles fingers scraping against the DNA strands known as Doflamingo's hair. There was a small cowlick, very small but very noticeable, near the lower back of the King's neck. It was rather amusing and Doflamingo sure as hell didn't seem to mind.

Many, many minutes had passed and Crocodile was very sure that he could no longer feel his right ankle or foot for that matter. The silence wasn't all that out of place in that moment. When they had fucked previous nights, the silence was murderous. When Crocodile was a slave, the silence was a liar and quite lethal. But now, it was a thin blanket of comfort enveloping the two. Crocodile didn't feel so out of place in the Don Quixote family.

Soft tapping was soon heard on the bare floors after at least half an hour of silence and hidden caresses. Crocodile barely registered the noise, having fallen half asleep himself, and only remembered the tapping after he was a tackled in the side by childish arms enveloping him. Doflamingo must have encountered a similar fate as Crocodile could detect a small exclamation come from the King.

"Dellinger!" Crocodile looked up at the small hybrid child whose arms were wrapped around the slave's neck. When Crocodile had looked to the side to see who had attacked Doflamingo, he could see Baby 5 straddling the King with a proud grin on her face. "What the hell was that?" Crocodile softly chuckled as Dellinger proceeded to smirk above him.

"The rest of the family is waiting for you two so we can open one of our presents but we waited so long that Dellinger and I just thought to sneak attack you!" Baby 5 gladly offered.

"But we had to be careful since the door was closed so we listened real good in case you two were fucking!" Dellinger replied with a lower tone then his usual voice. Baby 5 blushed as she quickly got off Doflamingo's back. Dellinger seemed to be in no hurry though. Leave it to the child with the dirty mind.

"Well, you found the King so you can go ahead and open that present." Crocodile calmly offered as he pried Dellinger's arms away from his neck and stood up. Doflamingo chuckled as Baby 5 began to pull on his arm impatiently, ecstatic to finally be able to open a present. "Damnit, get up, Doflamingo." Crocodile sighed as he grabbed Doflamingo's collar and yanked him out of the bed.

"Croco, I'm wounded." The King complained with a hand over his heart. Baby 5 and Dellinger snickered behind their tiny fists as they began to grab at the bottom of Doflamingo's button-up. Doflamingo eventually complied and allowed himself to be dragged to the door way and just barely into the hallway when Doflamingo began walking for himself. Damn, those kids were strong.

Crocodile, wanting to get some kitchen work done, slid off the bed and adjusted his clothes before going out the door and walking past the living area where all of the family was gathered and advanced on to the kitchen but before he could even brush against the doorknob with his fingertips, he was stopped.

"Woah, woah. Just where do ya think your going there, Croco-man?" Crocodile turned towards the living area to find Diamante practically folded in on himself on the couch, burning cigarette gone and crushed neatly in the ashtray. He had a present in his lap.

"What does it look like?" Crocodile asked sarcastically, something Diamante appreciated in a beaten down soul. "I'm doing work."

Crocodile could see Baby 5's head peak over the couch as she stood on the cushions. "But in order for us to open a present, our family has to be present." Baby 5 countered. Crocodile shrugged. It didn't refer to him, he was the slave. That was it. "All our family, Crocodile."

He froze.

He did nothing as sounds of agreement rose from the other emembers. Monet and Gladius observed as Buffalo and Machvise screamed at Crocodile to join with enthusiasm and as Dellinger and Sugar encouraged Doflamingo to use his Devil Fruit and make Crocodile sit his workaholic ass down and when even Corazon made "come here" gestures with his arm and when Baby 5... Oh, Baby 5. When she looked at him with those loving eyes so full of hope, even Crocodile couldn't say no.

So he joined them. He sat down next to Doflamingo and was eagerly welcomed with a Sugar immediately in his lap and his one one hand being held by Baby 5 who let go only to distribute presents to the other members of the family. Dellinger helped and Corazon gave the presents to the children to distribute from his placement on the floor. Luckily, no accidents occurred as the presents were all safely distributed and Corazon was not on fire. Crocodile chuckled softly as he noted how you could actually see the bottom of the tree.

Everyone had a present in their lap except for Crocodile. He didn't mind though and he would have been extremely surprised if he did receive one. He wouldn't known though, he did wrap all of the presents under the tree.

One by one, all of the boxes were opened and one by one, everyone was embracing a new item. Crocodile chuckled as Baby 5 and Buffalo we're both hit by Corazon as he opened the gift that contained the shirt and Crocodile smiled softly as he assisted a young Sugar with getting past the wrapping paper to see what was contained in her little present. It was very adorable when she held it up to Crocodile and smiled up at him.

One by one, the floor was covered in tattered wrapping paper and Corazon was practically swimming in it. One by one, the gifts were revealed. But, once all the selected gifts were opened and none of them were left, no one moved. Crocodile frowned at this. No more gifts needed to be opened so why was everyone still sitting? Was there another part to the tradition he was not aware of? His frown only deepened when Doflamingo nudged Baby 5.

"Oh! I had almost forgotten!" Baby 5 slid off the couch arm and ran towards the back of the room, away from Crocodile's line of sight. She soon returned with a small box that was very crudely wrapped. She held it out to the slave with a grin on her face.

Crocodile gingerly took the box out of Baby 5's hands and slowly began to open it until the bare box was left. He looked up at Baby 5 before returning his gaze to the unopened box that Sugar was reaching for (she never took well to anticipation). Crocodile allowed Sugar to open the box for him and what was inside took his breath away.

Inside, was a ring. A ring with gold and a bright red gem in the very center. Crocodile was stunned. Sugar took the ring and handed it to Baby 5 who in return asked for Crocodile's remaining hand. He held it out.

"This ring was from all of us." Baby 5 said as she placed it on Crocodile's ring finger. "So now, even if you go away from Dressrosa, you'll always have a part of us with you!" Baby 5 chuckled as she fell back into Corazon's lap, little shreds of wrapping paper drift upwards.

"You're practically married to us!" Baby 5 said as she hugged Corazon's arms.

Damn this family.

"Especially the Young Master!" Dellinger helpfully added with a snicker.

Damn them all.

* * *

A.N! A wild update has appeared! I am so sorry for making you all wait so long! But I have my shit together and Golden Captive is almost over! Stay tuned you beautiful people!


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